THE  LIBRARY 
OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 

IN  MEMORY  OF 
EDWIN  CORLE 

PRESENTED  BY 
JEAN  CORLE 


SOI 
ATSJI3AIAM 

Aavaan 


DICTIONARY 


OF 


Shakespearian  Quotations. 


EXHIBITING 


«iTHE  MOST  FORCIBLE  PASSAGES »» 


ILLUSTRATIVE   OF   THE   VARIOUS 


Passions,  Affections  anJ  Emotions  of  the  Human  Minn, 


SELECTED   AND  ARRANGED 


IN  ALPHABETIC  ORDER 
From  tie  Write  of  tie  Eminent  Dramatic  Poet. 


NBTW  YOBK  : 
HURST    &    CO., 


OF  THE  ABBREVIATED  REFERENCE  TO  THE  CONTEXT,  APFBHBJD  TO 
BACH  EXTRACT  'S.  QUOTATION. 


A.  f.     Antony  and  Cleopatra. 

A.  W.     All's  Well  that  Ends  Well. 

A.  Y.     As  You  Like  It 

C.     Coriolanus. 

C.  E.     ComerJy  of  Errors. 

Oym.     Cymfteiine. 

//.     Hamlet, 

H.  IV.  PT.  i.     Henry  Fourth,  Part 


H.  IV.  PT.  n. 

Second. 
U.  VI.  PT.  i. 

First 

n.  vi.  PT.  n. 

Second. 

H.  VI.  PT.  HI. 

Third. 

/.  C.     Julius  Caesar. 
H.  V.     Henry  Fifth. 
H.  VIII.     Henry  Eighth. 
K.  J.     King  John. 


Henry  Fourth,  Part 
Henry  Sixth,  Part 
Henry  Sixth,  Part 
Henry  Sixth,  Part 


K.  L.    King  Lear. 

R.  H.     Richard  the  Second. 

R.  HI.    Richard  the  Third. 

L.  L.    Lore's  Labour  Lost. 

M.     Macbeth. 

M.  A.    Much  Ado  about  Nothing 

M.  H.     Measure  for  Measure. 

M. N.     Midsummer  Night's  Dream 

M.  V.     Merchant  of  Venice. 

M.  W.    Merry  Wives  of  Windsor. 

0.    Othello. 

P.  P.    Pericles,  Prince  of  TTT*. 

R.  J.    Romeo  and  Juliet. 

T.    Tempest. 

T.  A.    Timon  of  Athens. 

Tit.  And.     Titus  Andronicus. 

T.  C.    Troilus  and  Cressida. 

T.  0.    Two  Gentlemen  of  Veroa* 

T.N.    Twelfth  Night 

T.  S.    Taming  of  the  Shrew. 

W.  T.    Winter's  Tale. 


*»*  The  Act  is  expressed  by  Roman  numerals;  the  (Scene  by  Arabic 
figures, 

EXAMPLE  :    A.  C.  iv.  7,  signifies,  Antony  and  Cleopatra,  Act  the  Fourth 
Bwne  the  Seventh. 


2037511 


food 


Lf.  1  V  fe 


?£ 
mure. 


THIS  datcbless  genius  of  Shakespeare  has  famished  occupation 
for  authors,  from  the  very  age  in  which  he  wrote,  down  to  the  pre- 
sent day ;  so  that,  independent  of  the  innumerable  editions  of  Ma 
plays,  from  the  original  authentic  copies,  to  the  modern  mutila- 
tions represented  under  his  name  upon  the  stage,  we  have  more 
than  two  hundred  works  of  which  Shakespeare  and  his  writings 
are  the  subject 

Such  being  the  case,  it  may  be  thought  necessary,  for  one  who 
ventures  to  add  to  the  number,  to  offer  some  apology  to  the  public 
for  so  doing.  That  tendered  for  the  present  compilation  is  founded 
on  the  belief,  that  among  all  these  works,  there  does  not  exist  one 
which  effectively  occupies  the  ground  here  taken,  and  very  few 
which  even  attempt  to  connect  Shakespeare's  felicitous  expression! 
— exhibiting,  as  they  do,  a  matchless  insight  into  human  nature — 
with  the  various  casualties,  motives,  and  objects  of  ordinary  life. 
Bnch  a  task,  if  performed  with  judgment  and  faithfulness,  could 
hardly  fail  to  prove  both  pleasing  and  useful.  In  support  of  the 
opinion  that  this  task  yet  remained  to  be  accomplished,  it  will  be 
necessary  to  submit  a  few  observations  concerning  the  works  which 
profess  to  have  the  same  object,  upon  the  comparative  merits  of 
which  with  the  SHAKESPKABIAN  DICTIONARY,  its  pretensions  to 
public  favour  must  be  founded. 

Ayscough's  "  Index  to  Shakespeare,"  is  a  work  of  great  labour, 
»nd,  as  a  verbal  compilation,  is  doubtless  of  utility ;  but  it  is  « 
dictionary  of  the  poet's  words,  rather  than  of  his  expressions,  giving 
only  so  much  of  the  context  as  was  necessary  to  elucidate  the 
peculiar  sense  wherein  each  word  is  to  be  understood,  and  con 
necting  this  with  remarkable  speeches  only  by  means  of  refer- 
ences. From  almost  any  arrangement  of  the  words  of  such  an 
author,  occasional  scintillations  will  necessarily  flash  out ;  but  in 

T  »  a 


this  case,  the  pleasing  effect,  which  thus  occurs,  is  destroyed  when 
we  arrive  at  the  next  word  in  the  catalogue.  We  may  learn  tn 
number  the  occasions  wherein  each  word  recurs  throughout  the 
author's  writings,  but  what  have  the  imaginat'on  or  the  feelings 
to  do  with  such  a  calculation  ?  We  may,  incK-cd,  retain  the  con- 
sciousness we  bring  with  us  of  treading  on  hallowed  ground,  but 
feel  not  the  inspiring  influence  of  the  divinity. 

Certain  smaller  compilations,  put  forth  under  the  captivating 
title  of  "  Beauties  of  Shakespeare,"  contain  only  the  more  remark- 
able speeches,  and,  for  the  most  part,  are  confined  to  such  as  are 
clothed  in  verse ;  omitting  altogether  the  thousands  of  expres- 
sions strewed  profusely  throughout  the  prose  speeches  and  col- 
loquies, wherein  are  to  be  found  all  those  most  surprising  flashes 
of  description,  alternating  from  the  grotesque  to  the  sublime, 
which  peculiarly  distinguish  the  Bard  of  Avon  from  all  other 
writers,  either  ancient  or  modern. 

In  this  class  of  compilations  must  be  included  a  work,  pub- 
lished about  ten  years  since,  "  by  the  author  of  the  Peerage  and 
Baronetage  Chart,"  and  called  "  A  Dictionary  of  Quotations  from 
Shakespeare  ;"  but  the  same  objection  that  attends  the  "  Beauties," 
must  be  made  against  the  "  Dictionary."  The  quotations  are  given 
exclusively  from  the  measured  poetry  of  the  author,  while  the  prose 
speeches  and  colloquies  are  wholly  neglected.  Fearful  of  being 
suspected  of  speaking  unfairly,  concerning  a  work  which  comes, 
perhaps,  the  nearest  in  collision  with  the  present,  a  specimen  is 
here  introduced,  whence  the  reader  may  form  some  opinion  of  the 
editorial  discrimination  which  has  been  exhibited.  Under  the  head 
of  Drunkenness,  the  description  of  Danish  regal  ceremonies  is  intro- 
duced from  Hamlet : — 

"  Give  me  the  cups ; 
And  let  the  kettle  to  the  trumpet  speak, 
The  trumpet  to  the  cannoneer  without, 
The  cannons  to  the  heavens,  the  heavens  to  earth, 
Now  the  king  drinks  to  Hamlet." 

Under  the  same  head  we  find  inserted  the  pledge  of  returning 
amity  between  Brutus  and  Cassius,  taken  from  the  play  of  Juliui 
Cteuar : — 

"  Give  me  a  bowl  of  wine ; 
In  this  I  bury  all  unkindnesn,  Caai'nu." 

Tl 


As  another  illustration  of  the  same  subject,  we  have  the  expressiot 
of  Richard,  endeavouring  to  rally  his  downcast  spirits  against  thl 
pressure  of  a  guilty  conscience : — 

"  Give  me  a  bowl  of  wine ; 
I  have  not  that  alacrity  of  spirit 
Nor  cheer  of  mind  that  I  was  wont  to  have." 

Now  it  is  difficult  to  conceive  how  these  different  quotations  re- 
late to  drunkenness,  save  only  as  they  refer  to  the  act  of  drinking ; 
without  which,  that  wretched  state  or  propensity  which  we  express 
by  the  word  drunkenness,  cannot  indeed  have  existence. 

"  Tiie  Aphorisms  of  Shakespeare,"  edited  by  Mr.  Capel  Lofft,  and 
printed  and  published  at  Bury  St.  Edmunds  about  twenty  years 
ago,  formed  a  collection  worthy  of  that  highly  gifted  gentleman. 
Mr.  Lofi't  extracted  sentences  from  Shakespeare,  beginning  with 
the  play  of  Hamlet.  To  each  extract  he  prefixed  a  synonym,  or 
concisely  descriptive  sentence.  Where  he  conceived  the  author  to 
be  obscure,  from  having  used  terms  that  have  become  obsolete,  or 
encumbered  by  expletives,  he  took  the  liberty  of  altering  the  text, 
and  of  reducing  any  extract  according  to  his  own  pleasure,  into  an 
aphoristic  compass.  The  result  proved,  as  might  have  been  ex- 
pected, from  so  competent  an  editor,  and  such  rich  materials,  one  of 
the  most  choice  collections  of  aphoristic  wisdom  that  ever  issued 
from  the  press.  The  defects  of  Mr.  Lofft's  book  were,  that  he  ar- 
ranged each  play  separately,  without  any  classification  of  subjects, 
or  alphabetical  order :  hence  its  inconvenience  as  a  work  of  refer- 
ence. Suppose  it  were  required  to  be  known  what  Shakespeare 
had  said  on  the  subject  of  Grief,  Man,  Pride,  or  any  other  matter,  a 
person  would  probably  require  to  look  for  these  in  as  many  different 
places,  as  Shakespeare  wrote  plays.  As  a  Dictionary  of  Shake- 
spearian Quotations,  it  could  not,  for  obvious  reasons,  be  of  any  use. 

In  the  compilation  now  submitted  to  the  public,  each  extract  will 
be  found  classed  under  its  appropriate  head ;  and  where  the  import 
could  be  expressed  in  a  single  word,  it  is  so  expressed ;  but  where 
such  brevity  was  found  impracticable,  the  drift  or  spirit  of  the  ex- 
tract is  expressed  in  the  fewest  words  possible.  In  certain  cases  it 
nas  been  found  impracticable  to  express  the  import  of  an  extract 
literally,  ^either  by  a  single  word,  or  by  a  short  sentence.  In  such 
cases  the  compiler  has  endeavoured  to  catch  the  spirit,  and  to  prefix 
inch  a  term  as  would  best  convey  it  to  the  reader's  comprehension. 


If  he  has  not  in  all  such  cases  been  successful,  the  candid  will  not 
hastily  condemn,  but  refer  for  a  better  term  to  the  context.  What- 
ever the  compiler's  demerits  may  be,  the  charge  of  altering  the 
language  of  Shakespeare  cannot  be  sustained,  for  the  text  is  in  no 
instance  meddled  with,  except  with  the  view  to  reconcile  slight  va- 
riations which  occur  in  the  most  authentic  editions.  The  whole 
collection  has  been  finally  revised,  and  collated  with  the  edition  of 
ffeminge  and  Condell,  folio,  Lond.  1632. 

As  a  table-book,  it  is  presumed  this  work  will  be  found  no  less 
pleasing,  than  as  a  book  of  reference  it  will  be  useful.  Expres- 
sions, long  and  short,  grave  and  gay,  when  read  consecutively,  will 
ever  produce  a  pleasing  effect ;  and  the  devoted  admirer  of  Shake- 
speare will  not,  it  is  hoped,  be  displeased  at  occasionally  meeting 
beauties  which  had  long  been  familiar  to  him,  suddenly  presenting 
themselves  from  behind  coverts  where  he  had  not  expected  to  see 
them. 

The  DICTIONARY  OF  SHAKESPEARIAN  QUOTATIONS,  being  the  re- 
sult of  some  thought,  as  well  as  labour,  is  respectfully  offered  as  a 
book  of  utility  to  foreigners,  young  persons,  and  others,  engaged  in 
enquiries  into  the  structure  of  our  language ;  the  synonym  and  the 
extract  being  mutually  illustrative,  according  to  Locke's  idea  ol  • 


BRIEF  CRITICISMS 


OH   THI 


Tn«RE  hare  been  men  of  learning  and  talent  in  the  world,  whoM 
•erits,  real  or  supposed,  have  ensured  to  their  names  and  memories 
honours  more  glorious  and  more  lasting  than  the  highest  titles  which 
any  merely  hereditary  or  heraldic  claims  could  boast  We  have  "  the 
learned  John  Selden ;"  "  the  judicious  Hooker;"  "\heever-memorabU 
John  Hales ;"  "  the  admirable  Crichton ;"  "  the  leviathan  in  literature, 
Dr.  Samuel  Johnson,"  and  many  others ;  but  not  one  of  all  this 
phalanx  of  merit  has  more  justly  deserved  his  honorary  distinction, 
than  "  the  IMMORTAL  Shakespeare."  Had  this  man  lived  in  the 
ancic.it  days  of  Greece  or  Rome,  he  had  now  occupied  no  contempt- 
ible place  in  the  mythological  records  of  those  times.  But  Shake- 
ipeare  was  born  to  higher  honours  than  any  to  be  derived  from  a 
Pagan  apotheosis.  He  lives  in  the  heart  of  every  man  of  correct 
taste — he  dwells  on  the  lip  of  eloquence — he  gives  life,  and  soul, 
and  energy  to  every  feeling  expression — he  lends  his  powerful  aid 
to  the  moralist,  and  is  not  despised  even  by  the  true  religionist 
— nay,  his  very  enemies,  the  saints  of  modern  date,  "  praise  him  in 
the  gate  " — and  often,  unwittingly,  it  is  granted,  do  homage  to  Ms 
memory  by  borrowing  his  language  to  aid  their  own  crude  concep- 
tions ;  nor  have  instances  been  wanting,  within  the  observation  of 
the  writer,  of  persons,  even  in  the  pulpit,  quoting  the  "bard  of 
Avon,"  at  a  time  when  they  themselves  imagined  they  were  bor- 
rowing from  some  of  our  best  divines. 

Alas  I  how  difficult  a  task  it  is  to  write  of  Shakespeare  and  his 
works  in  terms  adequate  to  their  claims  on  our  wonder,  admiration, 

Ix 


€> ritirisms  nn  tjjE  IBnrRs  of  Ijjnkrsprnn. 


and  esteem  !  Yet  nearly  one  hundred  different  works  have  already 
been  successively  published  on  the  writings  and  genius  of  thie 
truly  immortal  bard. 

Of  the  life  of  our  author  nothing  new  can  be  said  :  his  biography 
has  been  exhausted,  yet  would  it  be  a  gross  injustice  to  him  to  print 
his  works  without  prefixing  whatever  has  been  authentically  handed 
dewn  to  us.  But  his  mind  lives  for  ever ;  and  will  for  ever  furnish 
some  new  topic  of  admiration,  or  some  fresh  subject  of  literary 
criticism. 

A  contemporary  writer  on  Ecclesiastical  History,  speaking  of  that 
best  of  books,  the  Bible,  thus  expresses  himself:  "  One  little  book, 
which  I  can  carry  in  my  bosom,  and  refer  to  in  every  exigence  of 
moment  to  my  soul's  peace,  is  worth  all  the  mighty  tomes  of  the 
Vatican ;  superior,  in  my  estimation,  to  all  that  ever  bishops  wrote, 
or  canonists  have  quarrelled  about."  There  is  nothing  profane  in 
the  observation,  that  what  the  Sacred  Volume  is  to  the  devout 
Christian,  the  works  of  Shakespeare  are  to  the  man  of  taste ;  for 
there  is  scarcely  a  subject  of  the  slightest  interest,  that  has  not  re- 
ceived some  illustration  from  the  writings  of  this  author,  in  whose 
mind  appear  to  have  been  embodied  all  the  forms  and  fashions,  all 
the  great,  and  all  the  minute  shades  of  human  character.  Shake- 
speare was  great  upon  all  subjects,  which  is  more  than  can,  with 
truth,  be  asserted  of  any  other  writer,  in  any  age  or  any  country. 
His  writings  may  be  referred  to  on  almost  all  occasions ;  and  the 
man  whose  mind  is  stored  with  the  language  of  our  bard,  need 
never  be  at  a  loss  for  topics  of  conversation,  or  subjects  of  important 
reflection. 

Shakespeare  was  not  only  what  Ben  Jonsou  denominates  him,  the 


soul  of  the  age, 


The  applause,  delight,  and  wonder  of  the  stage ;" 

but  is  to  this  hour  the  constant  companion  of  the  contemplative,  M 
"well  as  the  gay  associate  of  the  playful  and  the  happy. 

"  Thus  while  I  wond'ring  pause  o'er  Shakespeare's  page, 
I  mark  in  visions  of  delight  the  sage ; 

High  o'er  the  wrecks  of  man,  who  stands  sublime, 
A  column  in  the  melancholy  waste, 
(Ita  glory  humbled  and  its  glories  past,) 

Miijestic  'mill  the  solitude  of  time." 


CritirisuiB  nil  tjje  'HJurks  nf 

On  this  head  it  would  be  unpardonable  to  omit  noticing  what 
Schlegel  has  said  of  our  poet,  in  his  German  "Lectures  on  th« 
Jrama,"  which,  translated  into  English,  is  as  follows : — Never, 
perhiips,  was  there  so  comprehensive  a  talent  for  characterization 
as  Shakespeare's.  It  not  only  grasps  the  diversities  of  rank,  sex, 
and  &.g2,  down  to  the  dawnings  of  infancy;  not  only  do  the  king 
and  the  beggar,  the  hero  and  the  pickpocket,  the  wise  and  the  idiot, 
speak  aud  act  with  equal  truth — not  only  does  he  transport  himself 
to  distant  ages  and  to  foreign  nations,  and  pourtray  in  the  most 
accurate  manner,  with  only  a  few  apparent  violations  of  costume, 
the  spirit  of  the  ancient  Romans — of  the  French  in  their  wars  with 
the  English — of  the  English  themselves  during  a  great  part  of  their 
history — of  the  Southern  Europeans  (in  the  serious  parts  of  many 
of  his  comedies,)  the  cultivated  society  of  that  time,  and  the  former 
rude  and  barbarous  state  of  the  north  ;  his  human  characters  have 
not  only  such  depth  and  precision  that  they  cannot  be  arranged 
under  classes,  and  are  inexhaustible,  even  in  conception ;  no,  this 
Prometheus  not  merely  forms  men,  but  opens  the  gates  of  the  magi- 
cal world  of  spirits;  calls  up  the  midnight  ghost ;  exhibits  before  u« 
his  witches  amidst  their  unhallowed  mysteries ;  peoples  the  air  with 
sportive  fairies  and  sylphs ;  and  these  beings,  existing  only  in  ima 
gination,  possess  such  truth  and  consistency,  that  even  when  they 
are  deformed  monsters,  like  Caliban,  he  extorts  the  assenting  convic- 
tion that,  if  there  should  be  such  beings,  they  would  so  conduct 
themselves.  In  a  word,  as  he  carries  with  him  the  most  fruitful 
and  daring  fancy  into  the  kingdom  of  nature,  on  the  other  hand  he 
carries  nature  into  the  regions  of  fancy,  lying  beyond  the  confines 
of  reality.  We  are  lost  in  astonishment  at  seeing  the  extraordinary, 
the  wonderful,  and  the  unheard,  in  such  intimate  nearness. 

Again:  if  Shakespeare  deserves  our  admiration  for  his  charac- 
ters, he  is  equally  deserving  of  it  for  the  exhibition  of  passion- 
taking  this  word  in  its  widest  signification,  as  including  every  men- 
tal condition,  every  tone  of  indifference,  or  familiar  mirth,  to  the 
wildest  rage  and  despair.  He  gives  us  the  history  of  minds ;  he 
lays  open  to  us,  in  a  single  word,  a  whole  series  of  preceding  con- 
ditions. His  passions  do  not  at  first  stand  displayed  to  us  in  all 
their  height,  as  is  the  case  with  so  many  tragic  poets,  who,  in  the 
language  of  Lessing,  are  thorough  masters  of  the  legal  style  of  love. 
He  paints,  in  a  most  inimitable  manner,  the  gradual  progress  from 
th$  first  origin.  "  lie  gives,"  as  Leasing  says,  "  a  living  picture  of 

m 


uu  tji*  SBnrkfi  nf 


all  the  most  minute  and  secret  artifices  by  which  a  feeling  steali 
into  our  souls  ;  of  all  the  imperceptible  advantages  which  it  there 
gains  ;  of  all  the  stratagems  by  which  every  other  passion  is  made 
subservient  to  it,  till  it  becomes  the  sole  tyrant  of  our  desires  and 
aversions.  Of  all  poets,  perhaps,  he  alone  has  pourtrayed  the  men- 
tal diseases  —  melancholy,  delirium,  lunacy,  —  with  such  inexpress- 
ible, and  in  every  respect,  definite  truth,  that  the  physician  may 
enrich  his  observations  from  them  in  the  same  manner  as  from  real 
cases. 

And  yet  Johnson  has  objected  to  Shakespeare,  that  his  pathos  is 
not  always  natural  and  free  from  affectation.  There  are,  it  is  true, 
passages,  though,  comparatively  speaking,  very  few,  where  his  poetry 
exceeds  the  bounds  of  true  dialogue  ;  where  a  too  soaring  imagina- 
tion, a  too  luxuriant  wit,  rendered  the  complete  dramatic  forgetful- 
ness  of  himself  impossible.  Hence  an  idea  has  been  formed  of  sim- 
ple and  natural  pathos,  which  consists  in  exclamations  destitute  of 
imagery,  and  nowise  elevated  above  every-day  life.  But  energe- 
tical passions  electrify  the  whole  of  the  mental  powers,  and  conse- 
quently they  will,  in  highly-favoured  natures,  express  themselves 
in  an  ingenious  and  figurative  manner.  Besides,  to  use  the  obser- 
vation of  Mrs.  Montagu  —  "  Heaven-born  genius  acts  from  something 
superior  to  rules,  and  antecedent  to  rules,  and  has  a  right  of  appt»i 
to  Nature  herself."  In  accordance  with  this  sentiment,  it  is  re- 
marked by  the  German  critic,  that  the  rights  of  the  poetical  form 
have  not  been  duly  weighed.  Shakespeare,  who  was  always  sure 
of  his  object,  to  move  in  a  sufficiently  powerful  manner  when  he 
wished  to  do  so,  has  occasionally,  by  indulging  in  a  freer  play,  pur- 
posely moderated  the  impressions  when  too  painful,  and  immediately 
introduced  a  musical  alleviation  of  our  sympathy.  He  had  not 
those  rude  ideas  of  his  wit  which  many  moderns  seem  to  have,  as  if 
the  poet,  like  the  clown  in  the  proverb,  must  strike  twice  in  Lh« 
•ante  place. 


tuki,  r**<L 


THE  LIFE 


or 


kiktimrt. 

o 


WILLIAM  SHAKESPEARE,  the  most  illustrious  name  in  tin 
history  of  English  dramatic  poetry,  was  born  at  Stratford-upon- 
Avon,  on  the  23d  of  April,  1564.  His  father,  who  sprang  from  a 
good  family,  was  a  considerable  dealer  in  wool,  and  had  been  an 
officer  and  bailiff  of  Stratford,  where  he  for  some  time  acted  as 
justice  of  the  peace.  His  mother  was  of  the  ancient  family  of 
Arden,  in  the  same  county,  one  of  undoubted  gentility.  William,  who 
was  the  eldest  of  ten  children,  received  the  common  education  of  a 
country  free-school,  where,  it  is  probable,  he  acquired  what  little 
Latin  he  was  master  of.  At  an  early  age,  he  was  taken  by  his 
father  to  assist  in  his  own  business,  and  thus  deprived  of  attaining 
any  proficiency  in  classical  literature ;  but  whether  a  better  ac- 
quaintance with  ancient  authors  might  not  have  restrained  some 
of  that  fire,  impetuosity,  and  even  beautiful  extravagance,  which 
we  admire  in  Shakespeare,  may  well  admit  of  a  dispute.  Be  this 
as  it  may,  he  seems  to  have  adopted  the  mode  of  life  which  his 
father  proposed  to  him ;  and  we  find  that  in  his  eighteenth  year  he 
married  Ann  Hathaway,  the  daughter  of  a  substantial  yeoman  in 
the  neighbourhood,  who  was  eight  years  older  than  himself.  Of  his 
domestic  establishment,  or  professional  occupation,  at  this  time 
nothing  determinate  is  recorded ;  but  it  appears  that  he  was  wild 
and  irregular,  from  the  fact  of  his  connexion  with  a  party  who 
made  a  practice  of  stealing  the  deer  of  Sir  Thomas  Lucy,  of  Char- 
lecote,  near  Stratford.  This  imprudence  brought  upon  him  • 

>  1 


of  HHllium 


prosecution,  which  he  rendered  more  severe  by  a  lampoon  upon 
that  gentleman,  in  the  form  of  a  ballad  which  he  ha,d  affixed  to  his 
park  gates.  He  also  indulges  in  a  vein  of  splenetic  drollery  upon 
the  same  magistrate,  in  the  character  of  Justice  Shallow,  in  the 
opening  scene  of  "The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor;"  which  continued 
hostility,  as  he  was  indisputably  a  kind-hearted  man,  we  may 
presume  was  occasioned  by  an  excess  of  rigour  and  pertinacity  on 
the  part  of  Sir  Thomas. 

The  consequence  of  this  youthful  imprudence  drove  him  to 
London  for  shelter;  and  it  is  some  proof  that  he  had  already 
imbibed  a  taste  for  the  drama,  that  his  first  application  was  to  the 
players,  among  whom,  in  one  Thomas  Green,  a  popular  comedian 
of  the  day,  he  met  a  townsman  and  acquaintance.  This  removal 
has  been  thought  to  have  taken  place  in  1586,  when  he  was  in  his 
twenty-second  year.  If  tradition  may  be  depended  upon,  he  was 
necessitated,  in  the  first  instance  to  become  the  prompter's  call-boy 
or  attendant,  while  another  less  probable  story  describes  him  JIB 
holding  the  horses  of  those  who  attended  the  play  without  servants, 
a  prevalent  custom  at  that  period. 

As  an  actor,  the  top  of  his  performance  is  said  to  have  been  the 
Ghost  in  his  own  Hamlet.  "  I  should  have  been  much  more 
pleased,"  says  Mr.  Rowe  in  his  remarks  on  the  genius  and  writings 
of  Shakespeare,  "to  have  learned,  from  certain  authority,  which 
was  the  first  play  he  wrote ;  it  would  be  without  doubt  a  pleasure 
to  any  man,  curious  in  things  of  this  kind,  to  see  and  know  what 
was  the  first  essay  of  a  fancy  like  Shakespeare's.  Perhaps  we  are 
not  to  look  for  his  beginnings,  like  those  of  other  authors,  among 
their  least  perfect  writings;  art  had  so  little,  and  nature  so  large  a 
•hare  in  what  he  did,  that,  for  aught  I  know,  the  performances  of 
his  youth,  as  they  were  the  most  vigorous,  and  had  the  most  fire 
and  strength  of  imagination  in  them,  were  the  best.  I  would  not 
be  thought  by  this  to  mean,  that  his  fancy  was  so  loose  nnd  extra- 
Tagant,  as  to  be  independent  of  the  rule  and  government  of  judg- 
ment; but  that  what  he  thought  was  commonly  so  great,  so  justly 
and  rightly  conceived  in  itself,  that  it  wanted  little  or  no  correction, 
and  was  immediately  approved  by  an  impartial  judgment  at  tb« 
first  sight.  But,  though  the  order  of  time  in  which  the  several 
pieces  were  written,  be  generally  uncertain,  yet  there  are  passages 
in  some  few  of  them  which  seen)  to  fix  their  dates.  So  the  Ckorut 
a*  the  end  of  the  fourth  act  of  Henry  the  Fifth,  by  a  compliment 

9 


nf  William 


rtry  handsomely  turned  to  the  Earl  of  Essex,  shows  the  play  to 
have  been  written  when  that  lord  was  general  for  the  queen  in 
Ireland  ;  and  his  eulogy  upon  Queen  Elizabeth,  and  her  successor 
King  James,  in  the  latter  end  of  his  Henry  the  Eighth,  is  a  proof  of 
that  play's  being  written  after  the  accession  of  the  latter  of  thew 
two  princes  to  the  crown  of  England.  Whatever  the  particular 
times  of  his  writings  were,  the  people  of  his  age,  who  began  to 
grow  wonderfully  fond  of  diversions  of  this  kind,  could  not  but  be 
highly  pleased  to  see  a  genius  arise  amongst  them  of  so  pleasurable, 
so  rich  a  vein,  and  so  plentifully  capable  of  furnishing  their 
favourite  entertainments.  Besides  the  advantages  of  his  wit,  he 
was  in  himself  a  good  natured  man,  of  great  sweetness  in  his 
manners,  and  a  most  agreeable  companion  ;  so  that  it  is  no  wonder, 
if,  with  so  many  good  qualities,  he  made  himself  acquainted  with 
the  best  conversations  of  those  times.  Queen  Elizabeth  had  several 
of  his  plays  acted  before  her;  and,  without  a  doubt,  gave  him 
many  gracious  marks  of  her  favour:  it  is  that  maiden  princeM 
plainly  whom  he  intends  by 

"  -  a  fair  vestal,  throned  by  the  west" 

A  Midsummer  Night?*  Dream, 


And  that  whole  passage  is  a  compliment  very  properly  brought  in, 
and  very  handsomely  applied  to  her.  She  was  so  well  pleased  with 
the  admirable  character  of  Falstaff,  in  the  Two  Parts  of  Henry  the 
Fourth,  that  she  commanded  him  to  continue  it  for  one  play  more, 
and  to  show  him  in  love.  This  is  said  to  be  the  occasion  of  hit 
writing  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor.  How  well  she  was  obeyed, 
the  play  itself  is  an  admirable  proof.  Upon  this  occasion,  it  may 
not  be  improper  to  observe,  that  this  part  of  Falstaff  is  said  to  have 
been  written  originally  under  the  name  of  Oldcastle  :  some  of  that 
family  being  then  remaining,  the  Queen  was  pleased  to  command 
him  to  alter  it  ;  upon  which  he  made  use  of  Falstaff.  The  present 
offence  was  indeed  avoided  ;  but  I  do  not  know  whether  the  author 
may  not  have  been  somewhat  to  blame  in  his  second  choice,  since  it 
is  certain  that  Sir  John  Falstaff,  who  was  a  knight  of  the  garter, 
and  a  lieutenant-general,  was  a  name  of  distinguished  merit  in  thfl 
wars  in  France  in  Henry  the  Fifth's  and  Henry  the  Sixth's  times. 
What  grace  soever  the  Queen  conferred  upon  him,  it  was  not  to  hei 
?uly  he  owed  the  fortune  whi  ;  the  reputation  of  his  wit 


lift  nf  William  I 


He  had  the  honour  to  meet  with  many  great  and  uncommon  marki 
of  favour  and  friendship  from  the  Earl  of  Southampton,  famous 
in  the  histories  of  that  time  for  his  friendship  to  the  unfortunate 
Earl  of  Essex.  It  was  to  that  noble  lord  that  he  dedicated  his 
poem  of  Venus  and  Adonis.  There  is  one  instance  so  singular  in 
the  magnificence  of  this  patron  of  Shakespeare's,  that  if  I  had  not 
been'  assured  that  the  story  was  handed  down  by  Sir  William 
D'Avenant,  who  was  probably  very  well  acquainted  with  his 
affairs,  I  should  not  have  ventured  to  hare  asserted  it  ;  that  my 
lord  Southampton  at  one  time  gave  him  a  thousand  pounds,  to 
enable  him  to  go  through  with  a  purchase  which  he  heard  he  had  a 
mind  to.  A  bounty  very  great,  and  very  rare  at  any  time,  and 
almost  equal  to  that  profuse  generosity  the  present  age  has  shown 
to  French  dancers  and  Italian  singers. 

"What  particular  habitude  or  friendships  he  contracted  with 
private  men,  I  have  not  been  able  to  learn,  more  than  that  every 
one,  who  had  a  true  taste  of  merit,  and  could  distinguish  men,  had 
generally  a  just  value  and  esteem  for  him.  His  exceeding  candour 
and  good  nature  must  certainly  have  inclined  all  the  gentler  part  of 
the  world  to  love  him,  as  the  power  of  his  wit  obliged  the  men  of 
the  most  delicate  knowledge  and  polite  learning  to  admire  him. 

"  His  acquaintance  with  Ben  Jonson  began  with  a  remarkable 
piece  of  humanity  and  good  nature  :  Mr.  Jonson,  who  was  at  that 
time  altogether  unknown  to  the  world,  had  offered  one  of  his  playa 
to  the  players,  in  order  to  have  it  acted;  and  the  persons  into 
whose  hands  it  was  put,  after  having  turned  it  carelessly  and 
superciliously  over,  were  just  about  returning  it  to  him  with  an  ill- 
natured  answer,  that  it  would  be  of  no  use  to  their  company  ;  when 
Shakespeare  luckily  cast  his  eye  on  it,  and  found  something  so  well 
in  it,  as  to  engage  him  first  to  read  it  through,  and  afterwards  to  re- 
commend Mr.  Jonson  and  his  writings  to  the  public.  Jonson  was  cer- 
tainly a  very  good  scholar,  and  in  that  had  the  advantage  of  Shake 
•pearc  ;  though  at  the  same  time  I  believe  it  must  be  allowed,  that 
what  nature  gave  the  latter,  was  more  than  a  balance  for  what  booka 
had  given  the  former  ;  and  the  judgment  of  a  great  man  upon  this 
occasion  was,  I  think,  very  just  and  proper.  In  a  conversation 
between  Sir  John  Suckling,  Sir  William  d'Avenant,  Endymion 
Porter,  Mr.  Hales,  of  Eton,  and  Ben  Jonson  ;  Sir  John  Suckling, 
who  was  a  professed  admirer  of  Shakespeare,  had  undertaken  hit 
defence  against  Ben  Jonson  with  some  warmth  ;  Mr.  Hales,  who 

4 


lift  nf  William 


had  sat  still  for  some  time,  told  them,  That  if  Mr.  Shakespeare  haa 
not  read  the  ancients,  he  had  likewise  not  stolen  anything  from  them, 
and  that,  if  he  would  produce  any  one  topic  finely  treated  by  any  ont  cj 
them,  he  would  undertake  to  show  something  upon  the  same  subject  at 
least  as  well  written  by  Shakespeare." 

The  latter  part  of  his  life  was  spent,  as  all  men  of  good  sense 
will  wish  theirs  may  be,  in  ease,  retirement,  and  the  conversation 
of  his  friends.  His  pleasurable  wit  and  good  nature  engaged  him 
in  the  acquaintance,  and  entitled  him  to  the  friendship,  of  the 
gentlemen  of  the  neighbourhood.  Amongst  them,  it  is  a  story,  still 
remembered  in  that  country,  that  he  had  a  particular  intimacy 
with  Mr.  Combe,  an  old  gentleman  noted  thereabouts  for  his  wealth 
and  his  usury :  it  happened,  that  in  a  pleasant  conversation 
amongst  their  common  friends,  Mr.  Combe  told  Shakespeare,  in  a 
laughing  manner,  that  he  fancied  he  intended  to  write  his  epitaph, 
if  he  happened  to  outlive  him ;  and  since  he  could  not  know  what 
might  be  said  of  him  when  he  was  dead,  he  desired  it  might  be  done 
immediately :  upon  which  Shakespeare  gave  him  these  four  verse*  t 

"  Ten  in  the  hundred  lies  here  ingraved, 

'Tis  a  hundred  to  ten  his  soul  is  not  saved ; 

If  any  man  ask,  Who  lies  in  this  tomb  ? 

Oh !  ho !  quoth  the  devil,  'tis  my  John-a-Combe." 

For  some  years  before  his  death,  he  resided  at  Stratford,  in  a 
house  which  he  bought  from  the  Clopton  family,  and  which  con- 
tinued in  the  possession  of  his  descendants  until  the  Restoration, 
when  it  was  repurchased  by  a  member  of  the  same  family,  the 
representative  of  which,  Sir  Hugh  Clopton,  entertained  Garrick, 
Macklin,  and  others,  in  1742,  under  the  mulberry  tree,  planted  by 
Shakespeare.  His  executor  sold  the  house  to  a  clergyman  of  the 
name  of  Gastrel,  who  being  rated  for  the  poor  higher  than  he 
conceived  he  had  a  right  to  pay,  peevishly  declared  that  the  house 
should  never  pay  again ;  and  in  spite  to  the  inhabitants  of  Strat- 
ford, who  were  benefitted  by  the  company,  it  brought  to  the  town, 
he  pulled  it  down,  and  sold  the  materials.  He  had  previously  cut 
down  the  mulberry  tree  for  fuel,  but  an  honest  silversmith  purchased 
the  whole  of  it,  which  he  profitably  manufactured  into  memorials  of 
the  poet  Such  was  the  fate  of  a  residence  in  which  Shakespeare 
exhibited  so  little  solicitude  for  fame,  or  consciousness  of  his  own 
merits,  that  a  similar  example  of  modesty  is  scarcely  to  be  found. 


nf 


He  died  on  bis  birth-day,  April  23,  1616,  having  exactly  com- 
pleted his  fifty-second  year.  He  was  interred  on  the  north  side  of  the 
ehancel  of  the  great  church  of  Stratford,  where  a  monument  is  placed 
on  the  wall,  in  which  he  is  represented  under  an  arch  in  a  sitting 
posture,  a  cushion  spread  before  him,  with  a  pen  in  his  right  hand, 
and  his  left  resting  on  a  scroll  of  paper.  The  following  Latin 
distich  is  engraved  under  the  cushion : — 

"  Judicio  Pylium,  genio  Sooratom,  arte  Maronem, 
Terra  tegit,  populus  tnoeret,  Olympus  habeL" 

To  this  Latin  inscription  may  be  added  the  lines  to  be  found 
underneath  it : — 

"Stay,  passenger,  why  dost  thou  go  so  fast? 
Read,  if  thou  canst,  what  envious  death  hath  placed 
Within  this  monument;  Shakespeare,  with  whom 
Quick  nature  died ;  whose  name  doth  deck  the  tomb 
Far  more  than  cost ;  since  all  that  he  hath  writ 
Leaves  living  art  hut  page  unto  his  wit." 

This  monument  was  erected  within  seven  years  of  his  death ;  but 
on  his  grave-stone  beneath  are  written  the  following  lines,  which 
seem  to  have  been  engraven  in  an  uncouth  mixture  of  lai-ge  and 
•mall  letters,  at  the  time  of  his  interment : — 

"  Good  Friend  for  lesus  SAKE  forbeare 
To  dioa  T-E  Dust  EncloAsed  HERe 
Blest  be  T-E  Man  Y-T  spares  T-Es  Stones  - 
And  curst  be  He  Y-T  moves  my  Bones  " 

It  is  uncertain  whether  this  request  and  imprecation  were  written 
by  Shakespeare,  or  by  one  of  his  friends.  They  probably  allude  to 
the  custom  of  removing  skeletons  after  a  certain  time,  and  deposit- 
Ing  them  in  charnel  houses ;  and  similar  execrations  are  found  in 
many  Latin  epitaphs.  Shakespeare's  remains,  however,  have  been 
ever  carefully  protected  from  injury. 

His  family  consisted  of  two  daughters,  and  a  son  named  Hamnet, 
who  died  in  his  twelfth  year.  Susannah,  the  eldest  daughter,  and 
her  father's  favourite,  wns  married  June  5,  1607,  to  Dr.  John  Hall, 
»  physician,  who  died  November,  1C35,  aged  60.  Mrs.  Hall  died 
July  11,  1649,  aged  66.  They  left  only  one  child,  Elizabeth,  bora 

0 


'tilt  nf  H)illin.fl 


1607-8,  and  married  April  22,  1626,  to  Thomas  Nashe,  Esq.,  whfl 
iied  in  1647,  and  afterwards  to  Sir  John  Barnard,  of  Abington,  in 
Northamptonshire  ;  but  died  without  issue  by  either  husband. 
Judith,  Shakespeare's  youngest  daughter,  was  married,  February 
10,  1615-16,  to  a  Mr.  Thomas  Quiney,  and  died,  February,  1661-62, 
in  her  77th  year.  By  Mr.  Quiney  she  had  three  sons,  Shakespeare, 
Richard  and  Thomas,  who  all  died  unmarried,  and  here  the 
descendants  of  our  poet  became  extinct. 

In  the  year  1741,  a  monument  was  erected  to  the  memory  of  the 
"  immortal  bard"  in  Westminster  Abbey,  by  the  direction  of  tha 
Earl  of  Burlington,  Dr.  Mead,  Mr.  Pope,  and  Mr.  Martyn.  It  was 
the  work  of  Schoemaker,  (who  received  £300  for  it,)  after  a  design 
of  Kent,  and  was  opened  in  January  of  that  year,  one  hundred  and 
twenty-five  years  after  the  death  of  him  whom  it  commemorates, 
and  whose  genius  appears  to  have  been  forgotten  during  almost  the 
whole  of  that  long  period.  Th»  performers  of  each  of  the  Londou 
theatres  gave  a  benefit  to  defray  the  expenses,  and  the  Dean  and 
Chapter  of  Westminster  took  nothing  for  the  ground.  The  money 
received  by  the  performance  at  Drury-lane  theatre  amounted  to 
above  £200,  but  the  receipts  at  Covent-garden  did  not  exceed  £100. 

From  these  imperfect  notices,  which  are  all  we  have  been  able  to 
collect  from  the  labours  of  his  biographers  aud  commentators,  the 
reader  will  perceive  that  less  is  known  of  Shakespeare  than  of 
almost  any  writer  who  has  been  considered  as  an  object  of  laudable 
curiosity.  Nothing  could  be  more  highly  gratifying  than  an  ac- 
count of  the  early  studies  of  this  wonderful  man,  the  progress  of 
his  pen,  his  moral  and  social  qualities,  his  friendships,  his  failings, 
aud  whatever  else  constitutes  personal  history.  But  on  all  these 
topics  his  contemporaries  and  his  immediate  successors  have  been 
equally  silent,  and  if  aught  can  be  hereafter  discovered,  it  must  be 
by  exploring  sources  which  have  hitherto  escaped  the  anxious  re- 
searches of  those  who  have  devoted  their  whole  lives,  and  their 
most  vigorous  talents,  to  revive  his  memory,  and  illustrate  his 
writings. 

Dr.  Johnson,  in  his  elaborate  and  just  review  of  Shakespeare, 
observes,  "  He  has  scenes  of  undoubted  and  perpetual  excellence, 
but  perhaps  not  one  play,  which,  if  it  were  now  exhibited  as  the 
work  of  a  contemporary  writsr,  would  be  heard  to  the  conclusion. 
!  am  indeed,  (says  he,)  tar  from  thinking  that  his  works  were 
Brought  to  his  own  ideas  of  perfection  ;  when  they  were  such  at 

1 


life  nf  IBillifim 


would  satisfy  the  audience,  they  satisfied  the  writer.  It  is  sel- 
dom that  authors,  though  more  studious  of  fame  than  Shake- 
speare, rise  much  above  the  standard  of  their  own  age  ;  to  add  a 
little  to  what  is  best  will  always  be  sufficient  for  present  praise, 
and  those  who  find  themselves  exalted  into  fame,  are  willing  to 
credit  their  encomiasts,  and  to  spare  the  labour  of  contending  with 
themselves." 

The  dramatic  reputation  of  Shakespeare,  although  great  in  hit 
own  days,  became  partially  obsolete  during  the  period  when  French 
taste  prevailed,  and  French  models  were  studied,  under  the  second 
Charles ;  and  rising  again  as  it  did  on  its  own  intrinsic  pretension, 
until  his  productions  established  a  national  taste,  the  fact  is  still 
more  honorable  to  his  genius.  That  much  of  the  admiration  enter- 
tained for  him  is  national  and  conventional,  may  be  freely  allowed ; 
but  giving  all  due  weight  to  the  cold  hints  of  this  nature,  which 
pervade  criticism  of  a  certain  tone,  a  fair  appeal  may  be  made  on 
the  ground  of  positive  qualification,  and  a  knowledge  of  the  human 
heart,  which,  in  its  diversity  at  least,  has  never  been  surpassed. 
To  this  faculty  must  be  added,  that  of  an  imagination  powerful, 
poetical,  and  so  felicitously  creative,  that  presuming  the  existence 
of  the  vivid  offspring  of  his  fancy,  the  adopted  feelings  and  manners 
seem  to  belong  to  them  alone. 

Voltaire  observes  that  Shakespeare  has  been  the  favourite  of  the 
English  nation  for  more  than  a  century ;  and  that  that  which  hat 
engrossed  national  admiration  for  a  hundred  years,  will  by  pre- 
•cription  insure  it  for  ever.  But  though  there  may  be  some  truth 
in  tb's  remark,  the  obvious  and  undeniable  fact  is,  that  giv.it 
oativ  Urength  of  genius  can  alone  establish  the  prepossess)  tv 


DICTIONARY 


a. 

ABILITY,  INNATE. 

There's  in  him  stuff  that  puts  him  to  these  ends: 

For,  being  not  propp'd  by  ancestry,  whose  grace 

Chalks  successors  their  way ;  nor  call'd  upon 

For  high  feats  done  to  the  crown ;  neither  allied 

To  eminent  assistants ;  but  spider-like, 

Out  of  his  self-drawing  web,  he  gives  us  note; 

The  force  of  his  own  merit  makes  his  way ; 

A  gift  that  heaven  gives  for  him,  which  buys 

A  place  next  to  the  king.  H.  Vffl.  i.  1 

ABSENCE. 

I  have  this  while  with  leaden  thoughts  been  press'd ; 

But  I  shall,  in  a  more  continuate  time, 

Strike  off  this  score  of  absence.  0.  iii.  4 


•  LOVERS'. 


What !  keep  a  week  away?  seven  days  and  nights  ? 
Eight  score  eight  hours, — and  lovers'  absent  hours, — 
More  tedious  than  the  dial  eight  score  times  ? 
0  weary  reckoning !  0.  iii.  4 

0  thou  that  dost  inhabit  in  my  breast, 
Leave  not  the  mansion  so  long  tenantless  ; 
Lest  growing  ruinous  the  building  fall, 
And  leave  no  memory  of  what  it  was.  T.  0.  T.  4 

t 


Ijjakrspninait  Strfinnitr^        ADO 


ABUSE,  AND  BAD  ENGLISH  (See  also 

Have  I  lived  to  stand  at  the  taunt  of  one  that  make. 
fritters  of  English  ?  M.  W.  v.  5. 

Here  will  be  an  old  abasing  of  GoJ'a  patience  and  the 
king's  English.  M.  W.  i.  4 

Let  them  keep  their  limbs  whole,  and  hack  our  English. 

M.  W.  iii.  4. 

ACCUSATION. 

To  vouch  this  is  no  proof, 
Without  more  certain  and  more  overt  test, 
Than  these  thin  habits,  and  poor  likelihoods 
Of  modern  seeming  do  prefer  against  him.  0.  i   \ 

ACHIEVEMENT. 

A  very  good  piece  of  work,  I  assure  you,  and  a  merry. 

M.  N.  D.  i.  I 

Let  it  be  booked  with  the  rest  of  this  day's  doods  ;  or  I 
swear  I  will  have  it  in  a  particular  ballad,  with  mine  own 
picture  on  the  top  of  it.  II.  IV.  I>T.  u.  iv  1 

ACQUITTAL. 

Now  doth  thy  honour  stand, 
In  him  that  was  of  late  an  heretic, 
As  firm  as  faith.  M.  W,  iv.  4. 

ACTION,  DRAMATIC. 

Let  your  own  discretion  be  your  tutor  :  suit  the  action  to 
the  word,  and  the  word  to  the  action;  with  this  special 
observance,  that  you  o'erstep  not  the  modesty  of  nature  : 
for  any  thing  so  overdone  is  from  the  purpose  of  playing, 
whose  end,  both  at  the  first,  and  now,  was,  and  is,  to  hold, 
as  'twere,  the  mirror  up  to  nature  ;  to  show  virtue  her  own 
feature,  scorn  her  own  image,  and  the  very  age  and  body 
of  the  time  his  form  and  pressure  :  *  *  *  0,  there  be 
players,  that  I  have  seen  play,—  and  heard  others  praise, 
and  that  highly,  —  not  to  speak  it  profanely,  that,  neither 
having  the  accent  of  Christians,  nor  the  gait  of  Christian, 
Pagan,  nor  man,  have  so  strutted,  and  bellowed,  that  I 
have  thought  some  of  nature's  journeymen  had  made  men, 
and  not  made  them  well,  they  imitated  humanity  so  abomi- 
nably. H.  iii.  2. 

ADOPTION. 

"fis  often  seen 

Adoption  strives  with  nature  ;  and  choice  breeds 
A  native  slip  to  us  from  foreign  seeds,  A.  W,  i.  3. 

.VDORATION,  A  LOVER'S. 
What  you.  do, 

If 


ADO       ijjubHjifiinnn  Dirttotjartj, 


ADORATION,- 

Still  betters  what  is  done.     When  you  speak,  sweet, 

I'd  have  you  do  it  ever  :  when  you  sing, 

I'd  have  you  buy  and  sell  so  ;  so  give  alms; 

Pray  so  ;  and,  for  the  order  of  your  affairs, 

To  sing  them  too  :  When  you  do  dance,  I  wish  you 

A  wave  o'  the  sea,  that  you  might  ever  do 

Nothing  but  that  ;  move  still,  still  so,  and  own 

No  other  function  :  Each  your  doing, 

So  singular  in  each  particular, 

Crowns  what  you  are  doing  in  the  present  deeds, 

That  all  your  acts  are  queens.  W.  T.  iv.  4 

ADVERSITY  (See  also  MISFORTUNE). 

A  man  I  am,  cross'd  with  adversity.  T.  0.  iv.  1. 

Buk  myself, 

Who  had  the  world  as  my  confectionary  ; 
The  mouths,  the  tongues,  the  eyes,  the  hearts  of  men 
At  duty,  more  than  I  could  frame  employment  ; 
That  numberless  upon  me  stuck,  as  leaves 
Do  on  the  oak,  have  with  one  winter's  brush 
Fell  from  their  boughs,  and  left  me  open,  bare, 
For  every  storm  that  blows  ;  I,  to  bear  this, 
That  never  knew  but  better,  is  some  burden.       T.  A.  iv.  3 

Such  a  house  broke  ! 

So  noble  a  master  fallen  !  All  gone  !  and  not 

One  friend  to  take  his  fortune  by  the  arm, 

And  go  along  with  him  !  T.  A.  iv.  2. 

--  FOLLY  OF  REPINING  AT. 

What  think'st 

That  the  bleak  'air,  thy  boisterous  chamberlain, 
Will  put  thy  shirt  on  warm  ?  Will  these  moist  trees, 
That  have  out-lived  the  eagle,  page  thy  heels, 
And  skip  when  thou  point'st  out?  will  the  cold  brook, 
Candied  with  ice,  caudle  thy  morning  taste, 
To  cure  thy  o'er-night's  surfeit  ?  Call  the  creatures  ; 
Whose  naked  natures  live  in  all  the  spight 
Of  wreakful  heaven  ;  whose  bare  unhoused  trunks, 
To  the  conflicting  elements  expos'd, 
Answer  mere  nature,  —  bid  them  flatter  thee.       T.  A.  iv.  3. 


•  ITS  USES. 


Sweet  are  the  uses  of  adversity, 

Which,  like  the  toad,  ugly  and  venemoua, 

Wears  yet  a  precious  jewel  in  its  head.  A,  Y.\\.\ 

'Tie  good  for  men  to  love  their  present  pains, 
Upon  example  ;  so  the  spirit  is  eas'd : 
11 


A.DV       ${jnltt0]iHnatt  Iitttnn0n|. 


ADVERSITY,—  continued. 

And,  when  the  mind  is  quicken'd,  out  of  doubt, 

The  organs,  though  defunct  and  dead  before, 

Break  up  their  drowsy  grave,  and  newly  move 

With  casted  slough,  and  fresh  legerity.  //.  P.  iii.  1 

In  poison  there  is  physic  ;  and  these  news 

Having  been  well,  that  would  have  made  me  siak  ; 

Being  sick,  have  in  some  measure  made  me  welL 

And  as  the  wretch  whose  fever-weaken'd  joints, 

Like  <?tr*engthless  hinges,  buckle  under  life, 

Impatient  of  his  fit,  breaks  like  a  fire. 

Cut  of  his  keeper's  arms  ;  even  so  my  limbs, 

Weaken'd  with  grief,  being  now  enrag*d  with  grief, 

Are  thrice  themselves.  H.  IV.  PT.  n.  i.  1. 

1DVICE  (See  also  CAUTION).  ^ 

Fasten  your  ear  to  my  advisings.  Jf.  M.  iii  i. 

Obey  thy  parents  ;   keep  thy  word  justly  ;  swear  not  ; 

commit  not  with  man's  sworn  spouse;  set  not  thy  sweet 

heart  on  proud  array.  K.  L.  iii  4. 


Take  heed,  be  wary  how  you  place  your  words. 

H.  VI.  PT.  i.  iii.  2. 

Let  go  thy  hold,  when  a  great  wheel  runs  down  a  hill, 
lest  it  break  thy  neck  with  following  it ;  but  the  great  one 
that  goes  up  the  hill,  let  him  draw  thee  after.  When  a 
wise  man  gives  thee  better  counsel,  give  me  mine  again. 

K.  L.  ii.  4. 

Pray  be  counsel'd: 

I  have  a  heart  as  little  apt  as  yours, 

But  yet  a  brain,  that  leads  my  use  of  anger 

To  better  'vantage.  C.  iii.  2. 

Love  all,  trust  a  few, 

Do  wrong  to  none :  be  able  for  thine  enemy 
Rather  in  power  than  use ;  and  keep  thy  friend 
Under  thy  own  life's  key:  be  check  d  for  silence, 
But  never  tax'd  for  speech.  A.  W.  i.  1 

Keep  thy  pen  from  lenders'  books,  and  defy  the  fou) 
fiend.  K.  L.  iii.  4 

Let  not  the  creaking  of  shoes,  nor  the  rustling  of  bilks, 
betray  thy  poor  heart  to  women.  K.  L.  iii.  4. 

TO  A  YOUNG  WOMAN. 

Fear  it,  my  dear  sister ; 
And  Keep  you  in  the  rear  of  your  affection, 
Out  of  the  shot  and  danger  of  desire. 
The  chariest  maid  is  prodigal  enough, 
If  she  unmask  her  beauty  to  the  moon ; 
It 


A.DY        f  jriktfftirill  Sirtinmirtj.       ADC 

ADVICE,— continued, 

Virtue  itself  'scapes  not  calumnious  strokes : 

The  canker  galls  the  infants  of  the  spring, 

Too  oft  before  their  buttons  be  disclos'd ; 

And  in  the  morn  and  liquid  dew  of  youth 

Contagious  blastments  are  most  imminent. 

Be  wary  then  ;  best  safety  lies  in  fear ; 

Youth  to  itself  rebels,  though  none  else  near.  JL  i.  3> 

TO  A  YOUNG  MAN. 

Give  thy  thoughts  no  tongue, 

Nor  any  unproportion'd  thought  his  act. 

Be  thou  familiar  but  by  no  means  vulgar. 

The  friends  thou  hast,  and  their  adoption  tried, 

Grapple  them  to  thy  soul  with  hoops  of  steel : 

But  do  not  dull  thy  palm  with  entertainment 

Of  each  unhatch'd,  unfledged  comrade.     Beware 

Of  entrance  to  a  quarrel:  but,  being  in, 

Bear  it  that  the  opposer  may  beware  of  thee. 

Give  ev'ry  man  thine  ear,  but  few  thy  voice : 

Take  each  man's  censure,  but  reserve  thy  judgment. 

Costly  thy  habit  as  thy  purse  can  buy, 

But  not  express'd  in  fancy :  rich,  not  gaudy: 

For  the  apparel  oft  proclaims  the  man: — 

Neither  a  borrower  nor  a  lender  be : 

For  loan  oft  loses  both  itself  and  friend  ; 

And  borrowing  dulls  the  edge  of  husbandry. 

This  above  all, — To  thine  own  self  be  true ; 

And  it  must  follow,  as  the  night  the  day, 

Thou  canst  not  then  be  false  to  any  man. 

Farewell : — my  blessing  season  this  in  thee !  1£  I.  & 

•  TO  A  STATESMAN. 


Mark  but  my  fall,  and  that  that  ruin'd  me. 

Cromwell,  I  charge  thee,  fling  away  ambition  ; 

By  that  sin  fell  the  angels  ;  how  can  man  then, 

The  image  of  his  Maker,  hope  to  win  by't  ? 

Love  thyself  last ;  cherish  those  hearts  that  hate  thee : 

Corruption  wins  not  more  than  honesty. 

Still  in  thy  right  hand  carry  gentle  peace, 

To  silence  envious  tongues.    Be  just,  and  fear  not : 

Let  all  the  ends  thou  aim'st  at  be  thy  country's, 

Thy  God's,  and  truth's  ;  then  if  thou  fall'st,  0  Cromwell, 

Thou  fall'st  a  blessed  martyr.  H,  VUI.  iii.  2 

ADULATION  (See  also  FLATTERY). 

You  shout  me  forth 
In  acclamations  hyperbolical; 
At  if  I  lovM  my  little  should  be  dieted 
It  praises  sauc'd  with  lies.  Q.  ». 

W  9 


AFF        itjulUBjiEimatt  lirtiauartj.       AGE 


EFFECTED  SPEAKERS. 

These  new  tuners  of  accents.  R.  J.  ii.  4. 

iFFECTION  (See  PARENTAL  AFFECTION). 

AFFLICTION. 

Affliction  is  enamour'd  of  thy  parts, 

And  thou  art  wedded  to  calamity.  R.  J.  iii.  3 


The  silver  livery  of  advised  age.  H.  VI.  PT.  n.  v.  2. 

Do  you  set  down  your  name  in  the  scroll  of  youth,  that 
are  written  down  old,  with  all  the  characters  of  age  ?  Have 
you  not  a  moist  eye  ?  a  dry  hand  ?  a  yellow  cheek  ?  a 
whiteboard?  a  decreasing  leg?  an  increasing  belly?  la 
not  your  voice  broken  ?  your  wind  short  ?  your  chin  dou- 
ble ?  your  wit  single  ?  and  every  part  about  you  blasted 
with  antiquity  ?  and  will  you  yet  call  yourself  voung  ?  0 
fye,  Sir  John.  H.  IV.  "FT.  n.  i.  2 

Youth  no  less  becomes 
Tho  light  and  careless  livery  that  it  wears, 
Than  settled  age  his  sables,  and  his  weeds, 
Importing  health  and  graveness.  H.  iv.  7 

Though  now  this  grained  face  of  mine  be  hid 

In  sap-consuming  winter's  drizzled  snow, 

And  all  the  conduits  of  my  blood  froze  up  ; 

Yet  hath  my  night  of  life  some  memory, 

My  wasting  lamp  some  fading  glimmer  left, 

My  dull  deaf  ears  a  little  use  to  hear.  O.  E.  v.  1. 

I  would  there  were  no  age  between  ten  and  three-and- 
twtfnty  ;  or  that  youth  would  sleep  out  the  rest  ;  for  then 
is  nothing  between  but  wenching,  wronging  the  ancientry, 
stealing,  and  fighting.  W.  T.  iii.  3. 

His  silver  hairs 

Will  purchase  us  a  good  opinion, 
And  buy  men's  voices  to  commend  our  deeds  : 
It  shall  be  said  his  judgment  rui'd  our  hands  ; 
Our  youths,  and  wildness.  shall  no  whit  appear, 
But  all  be  buried  in  his  gravity.  /.  C.  ii.  1. 

As  you  are  old  and  reverend  you  should  be  wise. 

K.  L.  i.  4. 

When  age  is  in  tho  wit  is  out.  M.  A.  iii.  5 

becomes  it  thee  to  taunt  his  valiant  age, 
And  twit  with  cowardice  a  man  half  dead  ? 

H.  VI.  PT.  i.  iii.  fc 
14 


IGE       $jjflb0pmtiiii  iutbitanj.       AMA 

AGE  AND  FRAILTT. 

The  blood  of  youth  burns  not  with  such  excess 

As  gravity's  revolt  to  wantonness.  L.  L.  v.  2, 

Thou  should'st  not  have  been  old  before  thou  had'st  been 
wise.  K.  L.  i.  5 

AND  GRIEF. 

I  am  old  now, 
A.nd  these  same  crosses  spoil  me.  K.  L.  v.  3. 

0  1  grief  hath  chang'd  me  since  you  saw  me  last ; 

And  careful  hours,  with  Time's  deformed  hand, 

Hire  written  strange  defeatures  in  my  face.         C.  E.  v.  1. 

--  — *HD  LOQUACITY. 

Thvv-  tedious  old  fools  1  H.  ii.  2. 

ilM. 

Here  u  ihe  heart  of  my  purpose.  M.  W.  ii.  2. 

ilR. 

A  bond  of  air,  strong  as  the  axle-tree 
On  whi\  .  heaven  rides.  T.  C.  i.  3. 

iLARM. 

What  sto.  is  this  ?  what  tumult's  in  the  heavens  ? 
Whence  .  meth  this  alarum,  and  the  noise? 

H.  VI.  PT.  i.  i.  4 
What's  tl    business, 

That  such  »  hideous  trumpet  calls  to  parley 
The  eleept   »  of  the  house  ?  M.  ii.  3. 

Silence  th&.  dreadful  bell,  it  frights  the  isle 
From  its  pi   jriety.  0.  ii.  3. 

A.LLEGIANCE. 

Your  highness*  part 
Is  to  receive  our  duties  :  and  our  duties 
Are  to  your  ,  iirone  and  state,  children  and  servants  ; 
Which  do  bu,  what  they  should,  by  doing  every  thing 
Safe  toward  j  ur  love  and  honour.  M.  i.  4. 

AMAZEMENT. 

But  the  cha  iges  I  perceived  in  the  king  and  Camillo, 
were  very  notco  of  admiration :  they  seemed  almost,  with 
staring  on  one  mother,  to  tear  the  cases  of  their  eyes ;  there 
was  speech  in  i»*eir  dumbness,  language  in  their  very  ges- 
ture ;  they  lookc  J,  as  they  had  heard  of  a  world  ransomed, 
or  one  destroyed.  A  notable  passion  of  wonder  appeared  ic 
them :  but  the  wisest  beholder,  that  knew  no  more  but 
seeing,  could  not  say  if  the  importance  were  joy  or  sorrow : 
but  in  the  extremity  of  one  it  must  be.  W.  T.  v.  2. 

u 


AMB       $jrik*ff*si!ci  Sirtininnij.       AMB 

AMBITION. 

The  very  substance  of  the  ambitious  is  merely  the  shadow 
of  a  dream.  11.  ii.  2. 

I  hold  ambition  of  so  airy  and  light  a  quality,  that  it  U 
but  a  shadow's  shadow.  //.  ii.  2. 

'Tis  a  common  proof 

That  lowliness  is  young  ambition's  ladder, 
Whereto  the  climber  upward  turns  his  face ; 
But  when  he  once  attains  the  upmost  round, 
lie  then  unto  the  ladder  turns  his  back, 
Looks  in  the  clouds,  scorning  the  base  degrees 
By  which  he  did  ascend.  J.  C.  ii.  4 

Ye  gods,  it  doth  amaze  me, 
A  man  of  such  a  feeble  temper  should 
So  get  the  start  of  the  majestic  world, 
And  bear  the  palm  alone.  /.  C.  L  2. 

What  see'st  thou  there  ?  King  Henry's  diadem, 
Enchas'd  with  all  the  honours  of  the  world  ? 
If  so,  gaze  on,  and  grovel  on  thy  face, 
Until  thy  head  be  circled  with  the  same. 
Put  forth  thy  hand,  reach  at  the  glorious  gold : — 
What,  is't  too  short  ?  I'll  lengthen  it  with  mine  : 
And,  having  both  together  heav'd  it  up, 
We'll  both  together  lift  our  heads  to  heaven  ; 
And  never  more  abase  our  sight  so  low, 
As  to  vouchsafe  one  glance  unto  the  ground, 

H.  VI.  PT.  ii.  i.  2. 
That  is  a  step, 

On  which  I  must  fall  down,  or  else  o'erleap, 
For  in  my  way  it  lies.  M.  i.  4 

I  have  no  spur 

To  prick  the  sides  of  my  intent,  but  only 
Vaulting  ambition,  which  o'erleaps  itself, 
And  falls  on  t'other  side.  M.  i.  7 

The  devil  speed  him  1  no  man's  pie  is  freed 
From  his  ambitious  finger.  //.  VIII.  i.  L 

Follow  I  must,  I  cannot  go  before, 
While  Glo'ster  bears  this  base  and  humble  mind. 
Were  I  a  man,  a  duke,  and  next  of  blood, 
I  would  remove  these  tedious  stumbling  blocks, 
And  smooth  my  way  upon  their  headless  necks. 

H.  VI.  PT.  ii.  i.  2 

Two  stars  keep  not  their  motion  in  one  sphere  ; 
Nor  can  one  England  brook  a  double  reign, 
Of  Harry  Percy  and  the  Prince  of  Wales. 

H.IV.  PT.  ii  T.  4. 


AMB       £jffk*ifti?i89  Dirtionflrt|.       ANO 


AMBITION,—  continued. 

The  noble  Brutus 

Hath  told  you  Caesar  was  ambitious  : 
If  it  were  so,  it  was  a  grievous  fault  ; 
And  grievously  hath  Caesar  answered  it.  /.  C.  iii.  2. 

-  -  DEFEATED. 

People,  and  senators  !  be  not  affrighted  ; 

Fly  not  ;  stand  still  :  —  ambition's  debt  is  paid.    7.  (7.  iii.  L 

ALLOY,  UNIVERSAL,  IN  THIS  PROBATIONARY  LIFE. 
Unruly  blasts  wait  on  the  tender  spring, 

Unwholesome  weeds  take  root  with  precious  flowers  ; 
The  adder  hisseth  where  the  sweet  birds  sing  ; 

What  virtue  breeds,  iniquity  devours.  Poems. 

AMEN. 

Let  me  say,  Amen,  betimes,  lest  the  devil  cross  my  prayer. 

AMENDMENT  (See  also  REFORM). 

God  mend  all.  H.  VIH.  i.  3. 

ANCESTRY  (See  also  LINEAGE). 

Look  in  the  chronicles,  we  came  in  with  Richard  con- 
queror. T.  8.  IND.  1 

ANGER  (See  also  FURY—  RAGE). 
To  be  in  anger  is  impiety, 

But  who  is  man  that  is  not  angry.  T.  A.  iii.  5. 

Never  anger  made  good  guard  for  itself.  A.  C.  iv.  1 

This  tyger-footed  rage,  when  it  shall  find 
The  harm  of  unscann'd  swiftness,  will,  too  late, 
Tie  leaden  pounds  to  his  heels.  C.  iii.  1. 

Stay,  my  lord  1 

And  let  your  reason  with  your  choler  question 
What  'tis  you  go  about.     To  climb  steep  hilla 
Requires  slow  pace  at  first.     Anger  is  like 
A  full  hot  horse,  who,  being  allowed  his  way, 
Self  mettle  tires  him.  H.  VUL  i.  1 

It  were  for  me 

To  throw  my  sceptre  at  the  injurious  gods  ; 
To  tell  them  that  this  world  did  equal  theirs, 
Till  they  had  stol'n  our  jewel,     All's  but  naught  ; 
Patience  is  sottish  ;  and  impatience  does 
Become  a  dog  that's  mad.  A.  C.  iv.  13 

Why,  what  a  wasp-stung  and  impatient  fool 

Art  thou,  to  break  into  this  woman's  mood.  H.  IV.  FT.  I.  i  3 

Now,  by  the  ground  that  I  am  banish'd  from, 

Well  could  I  curse  away  a  winter's  night, 

17  «B 


ANG  ftttflfirov     u0nan.       ANG 


A  N  GER,  —  continued. 

Though  standing  naked  on  a  mountain  top, 
Where  biting  cold  would  never  let  grass  grow, 
And  think  it  but  a  minute  spent  in  sport. 

H.  VI.  FT.  ii.  iii  2 
Away  to  heaven,  respective  lenity, 

And  fire-ey'd  fury  be  my  conduct  now.  R.  J.  iii.  1- 

What!  drunk  with  choler?  stay,  and  pause  awhile. 

H.  IV.  FT.  i.  i.  3 

A  plague  upon  them  !  wherefore  should  I  curse  them  ? 
Would  curses  kill  as  doth  the  mandrake's  groan. 
I  would  invent  as  bitter-searching  terms, 
As  curst,  as  harsh,  and  horrible  to  hear, 
Delivered  strongly  through  my  fixed  teeth, 
With  full  as  many  signs  of  deadly  hate, 
As  lean-faced  Envy  in  her  loathsome  cave  : 
My  tongue  should  stumble  in  mine  earnest  words  ; 
Mine  eyes  should  sparkle  like  the  beaten  flint  ; 
My  hair  be  fix'd  on  end,  as  one  distract  ; 
Ay,  every  joint  should  seem  to  curse  and  ban: 
And  even  now  my  burdened  heart  would  break, 
Should  I  not  curse  them.     Poison  be  their  drink  ! 
Gall,  worse  than  gall,  the  daintiest  that  they  taste  1 
Their  sweetest  shade,  a  grove  of  cypress  trees  1 
Their  chiefest  prospect,  murd'ring  basilisks  ! 
Their  softest  touch,  as  smart  as  lizards'  stings  ! 
Their  music,  frightful  as  the  serpent's  hiss  ; 
And  boding  screech-owls  make  the  concert  full  ! 

H.  VI.  FT.  n.  iii.  2 
Be  advis'd  ; 

Heat  not  a  furnace  for  your  foes  so  hot, 
That  it  do  singe  yourself:  we  may  out-run, 
By  violent  swiftness,  that  which  we  run  at, 
And  lose  by  over-runtoing.     Know  you  not, 
The  fire  that  mounts  the  liquor  till't  run  o'er, 
In  seeming  to  augment  it,  wastes  it.     Be  advis'd. 

H.  VIII.  i.  1 

0,  that  my  tongue  were  in  the  thunder's  mouth  ! 
Then  with  a  passion  would  I  shake  the  world.     K.J.  iii.  4 
I  am  about  to  weep  ;  but,  thinking  that 
We  are  a  queen,  (or  long  have  dream'd  so)  certain, 
The  daughter  of  a  king,  my  drops  of  tears 
I'll  turn  to  sparks  of  fire.  H.  VIII.  ii.  4 

0  Cassius,  you  are  yoked  with  a  lamb 
That  carries  anger  as  the  flint  bears  fire  ; 
Who,  much  enforced,  shows  a  ha  >  ty  apark, 
And  straight  is  cold  agair.  /.  6*.  iv.3 

Ii 


ANG       liuihsjieanjiii  iintBuanj.       ANT 


ANGER,  —  continued. 

Anger's  mv  meat  :  I  sup  upon  myself, 

And  so  shall  starve  with  feeding.  (7.  iv.  2 

But  anger  has  a  privilege.  K.  L.  ii.  2 

By  the  gods 

You  shall  digest  the  venom  of  your  spleen, 
Though  it  do  split  you  :  for,  from  this  day  forth, 
I'll  use  you  for-my  mirth,  yea,  for  my  laughter, 
When  you  are  waspish.  /.  C.  iv.  3. 

ANGLING. 

The  pleasant'st  angling  is  to  see  the  fish 

Cut  with  her  golden  oars  the  silver  stream, 

And  greedily  devour  the  treacherous  bait.          M.  A.  iii.  1. 

ANNOYANCE,  IMPERTINENT. 

The  loose  encounters  of  lascivious  men.  T.  6.  ii.  6. 

ANSWER. 

Definitively  thus  I  answer  you.  R.  III.  iii.  7 

Your  answer,  Sir,  is  enigmatical.  M.  A.  v.  4. 

-  ,  GENERAL. 

But  for  me,  I  have  an  answer  will  serve  all  men. 

A.  W.  ii.  2. 
ANSWERING  A  LETTER. 

Any  man,  that  can  write,  may  answer  a  letter.     R.  J.  ii.  4 

ANT. 

We'll  set  thee  to  school  to  an  ant,  to  teach  thee  thero'i 
no  labouring  in  the  winter.  K.  L.  ii.  4. 

ANTICIPATION. 

By  the  pricking  of  my  thumbs, 

Something  wicked  this  way  comes.  M.  iv.  1. 

I  smell  it  ;  upon  my  life,  it  will  do  well.    H.  IV.  FT.  i.  i.  3. 
Excellent  1  I  smell  a  device.  T.  N.  ii.  3 

A  man  may  hear  this  shower  sing  in  the  wind. 

M.  W.  iii.  2. 

Great  business  must  be  wrought  ere  noon  ; 
Upon  the  corner  of  the  moon 
There  hang's  a  vapourous  drop  profound  ; 
I'll  catch  it  ere  it  come  to  ground.  M.  iii.  5 

I  am  giddy  ;  expectation  whirls  me  round. 
The  imaginary  relish  is  so  sweet, 
That  it  enchants  my  sense.  T.  C.  iii.  2, 

ANTIQUITIES. 

What's  to  do  ? 
Shall  we  go  see  the  reliques  of  this  town  t         S1.  N.  iii.  $< 


APO        ft^fiktlflftfiti  Uirtinuurij.       APP 

APOLOGIST. 

I  have  laboured  for  the  poor  gentleman,  to  the  extremes! 
shore  of  my  modesty.  M.  M.  iii.  2 

APOLOGY. 

What,  shall  this  speech  he  spoke  for  our  excuse  ? 

Or  shall  we  on  without  apology.  R.  J.  i.  4. 

APOPLEXY. 

This  apoplexy  is,  as  I  take  it,  a  kind  of  lethargy,  an't 
please  your  lordship ;  a  kind  of  sleeping  in  the  blood,  a 
whoreson  tingling.  H.  IV.  FT.  n.  i.  2 

APOTHECARY. 

I  do  remember  an  apothecary, — 

And  hereabouts  he  dwells, — whom  late  I  noted 

In  tatter'd  weeds,  with  overwhelming  brow  s, 

Culling  of  simples ;  meagre  were  his  looks, 

Sharp  misery  had  worn  him  to  the  bones : 

And  in  his  needy  shop  a  tortoise  hung, 

An  alligator  stuff  'd,  and  other  skins 

Of  ill-shap'd  fishes  ;  and  about  his  shelves 

A  beggarly  account  of  empty  boxes, 

Green  earthen  pots,  bladders  and  musty  seeds, 

Remnants  of  packthread,  and  old  cakes  of  roses, 

Were  thinly  scatter'd  to  make  up  a  show. 

Noting  this  penury,  to  myself  I  said, — 

An'  if  a  man  did  need  a  poison  now, 

Whose  sale  is  present  death  in  Mantua. 

Here  lives  a  caitiff  wretch  would  sell  it  him.        R.  J.  v.  1 

APPARITION  (See  also  GHOSTS,  SPIRITS). 

I  have  heard  (but  not  believ'd)  the  spirits  of  the  dead 
May  walk  again :  if  such  thing  be,  thy  mother 
Appeared  to  me  last  night ;  for  ne'er  was  dream 
So  tike  a  waking.  W.  T.  iii.  3. 

APPEAL. 

And  here  I  stand:— judge,  my  masters.    H.  IV.  FT.  i.  ii.  4. 

APPELLATIONS  OF  JUVENILE  ENDEARMKNT. 

Adoptedly  ;  as  school-maids  change  their  names 

By  vain,  though  apt  affection.  M.  M.  i.  5. 

APPLAUSE,  POPULAR  (See  also  POPULARITT,  MOB). 
And  there  is  such  confusion  in  my  powers, 
As,  after  some  oration  fairly  spoke 
By  a  beloved  prince,  there  doth  appear 
Among  the  buzzing  pleased  multitude : 
Where  every  something  being  blent  together, 

to  a  wild  of  nothing  M.  K,  in.  4 

H 


APP        fjjnkfsjnnrnni  iidtfluanj. 

APPREHENSION. 

Heaven  !  that  I  had  thy  head  !  he  has  found  the  meaning. 

P.  P.  i.  I 

OF  THE  WORTHLESS. 

Wisdom  and  goodness  to  the  vile  seem  vilo  ; 

Filths  savour  but  themselves.  K.  L.  iv.  2. 

APTITUDE. 

Your  spirits  shine  through  you.  M.  in.  L 

I  cannot  draw  a  cart,  nor  eat  dried  oats ; 

If  it  be  man's  work,  I  will  do  it.  K.  L.  v.  3, 

ARDOUR,  MILITARY  (Soe  also  WAR). 

0  let  the  hours  be  short, 
Till  fields,  and  blows,  and  groans  applaud  our  sport. 

H.  IV.  FT.  i.  i.  3. 

ARITHMETICIAN. 

Forsooth,  a  great  arithmetician.  0.  i.  1 

ARMAMENT,  SAILING. 

Thus  with  imagin'd  wing  our  swift  scene  flies, 

In  motion  of  no  less  celerity 

Than  that  of  thought.     Suppose  that  you  have  seen 

The  well-appointed  King  at  Hampton  pier 

Embark  his  royalty,  and  his  brave  fleet 

With  silken  streamers  the  young  Phoebus  fanning. 

Play  with  your  fancies  ;  and  in  them  behold, 

Upon  the  hempen  tackle  ship-boys  climbing: 

Hear  the  shrill  whistle  which  doth  order  give 

To  sounds  confus'd ;  behold  the  threaden  sails, 

Borne  with  the  invisible  and  creeping  wind, 

Draw  the  huge  bottoms  through  the  furrow'd  sea, 

Breasting  the  lofty  surge :  0  do  but  think, 

You  stand  upon  the  rivage,  and  behold        • 

A  city  on  the  inconstant  billows  dancing ; 

For  so  appears  this  fleet  majestical, 

Holding  due  course  to  Harfleur.  H.  V.  ii.  chorttt 

ARMY  (See  also  WAR). 

A  braver  choice  of  dauntless  spirits 
Than  now  the  English  bottoms  have  waft  o'er, 
Did  never  float  upon  the  swelling  tide, 
To  do  offence  and  scath  in  Christendom. 
The  interruption  of  their  churlish  drums 
Cuts  off  more  circumstance :  they  are  at  lu.nd, 
To  parley,  or  to  fight ;  therefore  prepare.  S.  J  ii   1 

England,  impatient  of  your  just  demands, 
Hath  put  himself  in  arms  ;  the  adverse  winds, 
Whose  leisure  i  have  staid,  have  given  him  time 

a 


ARM       lljalusjniinan  SHrtinnanj.       AM 

ARMY,— continued. 

To  land  his  legions  all  as  soon  as  I 

Hi?  marches  are  expedient  to  this  town, 

His  forces  strong,  his  soldiers  confident.  K.  J.  ii.  I. 

Tell  the  Constable, 

We  are  but  warriors  for  the  working  day  ; 
Our  gayness,  and  our  gilt,  are  all  be-smirch'd 
With  rainy  marching  in  the  painful  field. 
There's  not  a  piece  of  feather  in  our  host, 
(Good  argument  I  hope  we  shall  not  fly,) 
And  time  has  worn  us  into  slovenry  : 

But,  by  the  mass,  our  hearts  are  in  the  trim.       H.  V.  iv.  3. 
SVithin  a  ken  our  army  lies ; 
Upon  mine  honour,  all  too  confident 
TO  give  admittance  to  a  thought  of  fear. 

H.  IV.  PT.  u.  iv.  1. 

All  the  unsettled  humours  of  the  land, — 
Rash,  inconsiderate,  fiery  voluntaries, 
With  ladies'  faces,  and  fierce  dragons'  spleens, — 
Have  sold  their  fortunes  at  their  native  homes, 
Bearing  their  birthrights  proudly  on  their  backs, 
To  make  a  hazard  of  new  fortunes  here.  K.  J.  ii.  1 

Remember  who  you  are  to  cope  withal ; — 
A  sort  of  vagabonds,  rascals,  and  run-aways, 
A  scum  of  Bretagnes,  and  base  lackey  peasants, 
Whom  their  o'er-cloy'd  country  vomits  forth 
To  desperate  ventures,  and  assur'd  destruction. 

R.  III.  T.  1 

Big  Mars  seems  bankrupt  in  their  beggar'd  host, 
And  faintly  through  a  rusty  beavar  peeps. 
The  horsemen  sit  Tike  fixed  candlesticks, 
With  torch-staves  in  their  hands ;  and  their  poor  jades 
Lob  down  their  heads,  drooping  the  hides  and  hips  ; 
The  gum  down-roping  from  their  pale  dead  eyes  ; 
And  in  their  pale  dull  mouths  the  gymold  bit 
Lies  foul  with  chaw'd  grass,  still  and  motionless ; 
And  their  executors,  the  knavish  crows, 
Fly  o'er  them  all,  impatient  for  their  hour.          H.  V.  iv.  2 
His  army  is  a  ragged  multitude 
Of  hinds  and  peasants,  rude  and  merciless. 

H.  VI.  PT.  ii.  iv.  4 
IIRAIGNMENT. 

It  shall  be  done,  I  will  arraign  them  straight : — 

Gome,  sit  thou  here,  most  learned  justicer.          K.  L.  iii.  6. 

BREST. 

If  I  could  speak  so  wisely  under  an  arrest,  I  would  Ma4 

a 


iutinnanj.       ASS 


A  RR  EST,  —  continued. 

for  certain  of  my  creditors  :  and  yet,  to  say  the  truth,  I 
had  as  lief  have  the  foppery  of  freedom,  as  the  morality  of 
imprisonment.  M.  M.  i.  3. 

ART  AND  NATURE. 

Nature  is  made  better  by  no  mean, 
But  nature  makes  that  mean  ;  so,  o'er  that  art 
Which,  you  say,  adds  to  nature,  ia  an  art 
That  nature  makes.  W.T.  iv.  3. 

This  is  an  art 

Which  does  mend  nature,-    change  it  rather  ;  btit 
The  art  itself  is  nature.  W.T.  iv.  3 

ARTS,  FORBIDDEN. 

I  therefore  apprehend  and  do  attach  thee, 
For  an  abuser  of  the  world,  a  practiser 
Of  arts  inhibited,  and  out  of  warrant.  O.  i.  2. 

ASPECT,  MARTIAL. 

Say,  what's  thy  name  ? 
Thou  hast  a  grim  appearance,  and  thy  face 
Bears  a  command  in't  ;  though  thy  tackle's  torn 
Thou  show'st  a  noble  vessel.  C.  iv.  6. 

He  is  able  to  pierce  a  corslet  with  his  eye  ;  talks  like  a 
knell,  and  his  hum  is  a  battery.  C.  v.  4. 

SOUR. 


The  tartness  of  his  face  sours  ripe  grapes.  C.  iv.  4 

ASPIRANT. 

A  high  hope  for  a  low  having  :  God  grant  us  patience ! 

L.  L.  i.  1. 
Sir,  I  lack  advancement.  H.  iii.  2. 

ASS. 

Now,  what  a  thing  it  is  to  be  an  ass  !  Tit.  And.  iv.  2. 

0  that  he  were  here  to  write  me  down  an  ass  !  but,  mas- 
ters, remember  that  I  am  an  ass ;  though  it  be  not  written 
down,  yet  forget  not  that  I  am  an  ass.  M.  A.  iv.  2. 

I  do  begin  to  perceive  that  I  am  made  an  ass.     M.  W.  v.  5. 
If  thou  be'st  not  an  ass,  I  am  youth  of  fourteen. 

A.W.  ii.  3. 

With  the  help  of  a  surgeon  he  might  recover,  and  prove 
an  ass.  M.  N.  v.  1. 

ASSASSINS. 

Kill  men  i'  the  dark  !  where  are  these  bloody  thieves  ? 

O.v.l 


ASS       Ijiflkjapmifltt  Dirtinnartj.       AUS 


ASSIMILATION. 

The  mightiest  space  in  fortune  nature  brings 

To  join  like  likes,  and  kiss  like  native  things.      A.  W.  i.  1 

ASTRONOMERS. 

These  earthly  godfathers  of  heaven's  lights, 

That  give  a  name  to  every  fixed  star, 
Have  no  more  profit  of  their  shining  nights 

Than  those  that  walk  and  wot  not  what  they  are. 
Too  much  to  know,  is  to  know  nought  but  fame, 
And  every  godfather  can  give  a  name.  L.  L.  i.  1. 

ATTACHMENT. 

I  have  professed  me  thy  friend,  and  I  confess  me  knit  tc 
thy  deserving  with  cables  of  perdurable  toughness. 

0.  i.  3 

I  have  forsworn  his  company  hourly,  any  time  this  two 
and-twenty  years,  and  yet  I'm  bewitched  with  the  rogue's 
company.  If  the  rascal  have  not  given  me  medicines  to 
make  me  love  him,  I'll  be  hanged  ;  it  could  not  be  else. 

H.  IV.  FT.  i.  ii.  2 

ATTENDANCE. 

Creaking  my  shoes  on  the  plain  masonry.  A.  W.  ii.  1. 

ATTENTION. 

Lend  thy  serious  hearing  to  what  I  shall  unfold.      H.  i.  5 

Season  your  admiration  for  a  while 

With  an  attent  ear  ;  till  I  may  deliver, 

Upon  the  witness  of  these  gentlemen, 

This  marvel  to  you.  H.  i.  2, 

ATTRACTIONS,  PERSONAL. 

But  I  can  tell,  that  in  each  grace  of  these 

There  lurks  a  still  and  dumb  discoursive  devil, 

That  tempts  most  cunningly.  T.  C.  iv.  4. 

AVARICE. 

This  avarice, 

Sticks  deeper  ;  grows  with  more  pernicious  root 

Than  summer-seeding  lust.  N.  iv.  3, 

AVERSION. 

I  think  oxen  and  wain-ropes  cannot  hale  them  together. 

T.N.  iii.  2. 

AUSTERITY. 

Be  opposite  with  a  kinsman,  surly  with  servants  ;  let  thti 
tongue  tang  arguments  of  state  ;  put  thyself  into  the  tries 
of  singularity.  T.  N.  iii.  4 

24 


AUT       f  jrtkiifmiii  iuttntiarif.       AUI 

AUTHENTICITY. 

Five  justices'  hands  to  it,  and  authorities  more  than  my 
pack  will  hold.  W.T.  iv.  3. 

AUTHOR  (See  also  POET,  RHYMSTER). 

Nay,  do  not  wonder  at  it :  you  are  made 

Rather  to  wonder  at  the  things  you  hear 

Than  to  work  any.     Will  you  rhyme  upon't, 

And  vent  it  for  a  mockery  ?  Cym.  v.  3 

AUTHORITY  (See  also  OFFICE). 

0  place  1  0  form ! 

How  often  dost  thou  with  thy  case,  thy  habit, 
Wrench  awe  from  fools,  and  tie  the  wisest  souls 
To  thy  false  seeming.     Blood,  thou  still  art  blood : 
Let's  write  good  angel  on  the  devil's  horn, 
Tis  not  the  devil's  crest.  M.  M.  ii.  4. 

Thou  hast  seen  a  farmer's  dog  bark  at  a  beggar, 
And  the  creature  run  from  the  cur :  There, 
There,  thou  might'st  behold  the  great  image  of  authority : 
A  dog's  obeyed  in  office.  K.  L.  iv.  6. 

Authority,  though  it  err  like  others, 
Hath  yet  a  kind  of  medicine  in  itself, 
That  skins  the  vice  o'  the  top.  N..  M,  ii.  2 

I  shall  remember: 

"When  Caesar  says, — Do  this,  it  is  performed.  /.  C.  i.  2. 

Authority  bears  a  credent  bulk, 
That  no  particular  scandal  once  can  touch 
But  it  confounds  the  breather.  M.  M.  iv.  4 

Who  will  believe  thee,  Isabel ! 
My  unsoil'd  name,  the  anstereness  of  my  life, 
My  vouch  against  you,  and  my  place  i'  the  state, 
Will  so  your  accusation  overweigh, 
That  you  shall  stifle  in  your  own  report, 
And  smell  of  calumny.  M.  M.  ii.  4 

0,  he  sits  high,  in  all  the  people's  hearts ; 

And  that  which  would  appear  offence  in  us, 

His  countenance,  like  richest  alchemy, 

Will  change  to  virtue  and  to  worthiness.  J.O.  i.  3. 

Well,  I  must  be  patient,  there  is  no  fettering  of 
authority.  A.  W.  ii.  3 

And  though  authority  be  a  stubborn  bear,  yet  he  is  oft 
led  by  the  nose  with  gold.  W.  T.  iv.  3. 

Thus  can  the  demi-god,  Authority, 

Make  us  pay  down  for  our  offence  by  weight.        M. M.  i.  3 
-  —  INSOLENCE  or. 

Could  great  men  thunder 


Atrr       $ijakf5jtrarinti  Utrttniutrq.       BAI 

AUTHORITY,— continued. 

As  Jove  himself  does,  Jove  would  ne'er  be  quiet ; 

For  every  pelting  petty  officer 

Would  use  his  heaven  for  thunder ;  nothing  but  thunder. 

Merciful  heaven  1 

Thou  rather,  with  thy  sharp  and  sulphurous  bolt 

Split'st  the  unwedgeable  and  gnarled  oak, 

Than  the  soft  myrtle.     0,  but  man  !  proud  man  1 

Dress'd  in  a  little  brief  authority, 

Most  ignorant  of  what  he's  most  assur'd, 

His  glassy  essence,  like  an  angry  ape, 

Plays  such  fantastic  tricks  before  high  heaven 

As  make  the  angels  weep.  M.  M.  ii.  2. 

ADTDMN. 

Not  yet  on  summer's  death,  nor  on  the  birth 

Of  trembling  winter.  W.T.  IT.  3. 


33. 

BABBLER  (See  also  TALKER). 

Fie,  what  a  spendthrift  he  is  of  his  tongue  I  T.  ii.  1. 

Tut,  tut,  my  lord,  we  will  not  stand  to  prate, 

Talkers  are  no  good  doers,  be  assur'd : 

We  go  to  use  our  hands,  and  not  our  tongues.     R.  III.  i.  3. 

BACKING. 

Call  you  that  backing  your  friends  ?  a  plague  upon  such 
backing  I  give  me  them  that  will  face  me. 

H.  IV.  FT.  i.  ii.  4. 

BACKWARDNESS  (See  also  FRIENDS  COOLING). 

Cousin,  thou  wast  not  wont  to  be  so  dull.  R.  III.  iv.  2. 

BADNESS. 

Damnable,  both  sides  rogue.  A.  W.  iv.  3. 

Abhorred  slave ; 

Which  any  print  of  goodness  will  not  take 

Being  capable  of  all  ill.  T.  \.  2. 

Qod  keep  the  prince  from  all  the  pack  of  you  ! 

A  knot  you  are  of  damned  blood-suckers.         R.  Til.  iii.  3. 

BALLADS. 

I  love  a  ballad  but  even  too  well ;  if  it  be  doleful  matter 
merrily  set  down  ;  or  a  very  pleasant  thing  indeed,  and 
•ung  lamentably.  W.T.  iv.  3. 

Traduo'd  by  odious  ballads.  A.  W.  ii.  \ 


BAL       $jjiihsjuanan  Dirtiiiiiarq.       BAU 

BALLADS, — continued. 

An  I  have  not  ballads  made  on  you  ail,  and  sung  to 
filthy  tunes,  let  a  cup  of  sack  be  my  poison. 

H.  IV.  PT.  H.  ii.  2. 

I  lore  a  ballad  in  print  a'  life ;  for  then  we  are  sore  they 
are  true.  W.  T.  iv.  3 

BALLAD-MONGERS  (See  also  POETRY,  RHYMSTIRS). 
I  had  rather  be  a  kitten,  and  cry, — mew, 
Than  one  of  these  same  metre  ballad-mongers  : 
I  had  rather  hear  a  brazen  can'stick  turn'd, 
Or  a  dry  wheel  grate  on  an  axletree ; 
And  that  would  set  my  teeth  nothing  on  edge, 
Nothing  so  much  as  mincing  poetry  ; 
'Tie  like  the  forc'd  gait  of  a  shuffling  nag. 

H.VI.  pi.iiL  L 

BALLAD-SINGER,  ITINERANT. 

0  master,  if  you  did  but  hear  the  pedlar  at  the  door,  you 
would  never  dance  again  after  a  tabor  and  pipe ;  no,  the 
bag-pipe  could  not  move  you :  he  sines  several  tunes,  faster 
than  you'll  tell  money ;  he  utters  them  as  he  had  eaten 
ballads,  and  all  men's  ears  grow  to  their  tunes.  W.  T.  iv.  3. 

BANISHMENT. 

Banish'd,  is  banish'd  from  the  world, 
And  world's  exile  is  death  :  then  banish'd 
Is  death  misterm'd :  calling  death, — banishment, 
Thou  cut'st  my  head  off  with  a  golden  axe, 
And  smil'st  upon  the  stroke  that  murders  me.     R.  J.  iii.  3. 
Then  England's  ground,  farewell ;  sweet  soil,  adieu ; 
My  mother,  and  my  nurse,  that  bears  me  yet  1 
Where'er  I  wander,  boast  of  this  I  can, — 
Though  banish'd,  yet  a  true-born  Englishman.     R.  II.  i.  3 

Banished  ? 

0  friar,  the  damned  use  that  word  in  hell ; 
Bowlings  attend  it.  R.  J.  iii.  3 

I've  stoopt  my  neck  under  your  injuries, 
And  sigh'd  my  English  breath  in  foreign  clouds, 
Eating  the  bitter  bread  of  banishment.  R.  D.  iii.  1, 

Banish  me  ? 

Banish  your  dotage ;  banish  usury, 
That  makes  the  senate  ugly.  T.  A.  iii.  5. 

BANTERING. 

With  that,  all  laugh'd,  and  clapp'd  him  on  the  shoulder ; 

Making  the  bold  wag,  by  their  praises,  bolder: 

One  rubb'd  his  elbow,  thus  ;  and  fleer'd,  and  swore, 

A.  better  speech  was  never  heard  before.  L.  L.  v.  % 

V 


BAN       IjjabapBitnau  ItrtiBiunj,        BAT 

BANTERING.— continued. 

Close,  in  the  name  of  jesting  1  T.  N.  ii.  5 

GIRLS. 

The  tongues  of  mocking  wenches  are  as  keen 

As  is  the  razor's  edge  invisible, 
Cutting  a  smaller  hair  than  may  be  seen  ; 

Above  the  sense  of  sense :  so  sensible 
Seemeth  their  conference  ;  their  conceits  have  wings, 
Fleeter  than  arrows,  bullets,  wind,  thought,  swifter  things. 

L.L.  v.  2. 

BASENESS. 

Base  and  unlustrous  as  the  smoky  light 

That's  fed  with  stinking  tallow.    *  Gym.  i.  7 

You  shall  mark 

Many  a  duteous  and  knee-crooking  knave, 
That,  doting  on  his  own  obsequious  bondage, 
Wears  out  his  time,  much  like  his  master's  ass, 
For  nought  but  provender,  and,  when  he's  old,  cashier'd  ; 
Whip  me  such  honest  knaves.  0.  i.  1 

Some  kinds  of  baseness 

Are  nobly  undergone ;  and  most  poor  matters 
Point  to  rich  ends.  T.  iii.  1. 

BASTARD. 

Bastard  instructed,  bastard  in  mind,  bastard  in  valour ; 
in  every  thing  illegitimate.  T.  G.  v.  8. 

Why  bastard  ?  wherefore  base  ? 
When  my  dimensions  are  as  well  compact, 
My  mind  as  generous,  and  my  shape  as  true, 
As  honest  madam's  issue  ?  K.  L.  i.  2. 

Ha  1  Fie,  these  filthy  vices  !  It  were  as  good 

To  pardon  him  that  hath  from  nature  stolen 

A  man  already  made,  as  to  remit 

Their  saucy  sweetness,  that  do  coin  heaven's  image 

In  stamps  that  are  forbid :  'tis  all  as  easy 

Falsely  to  take  away  a  life  true  made, 

As  to  put  mettle  in  restrained  means, 

To  make  a  false  one  U.  M,  ii.  4, 

Fine  word, — legitimate  ! 
Well,  my  legitimate,  if  this  letter  speed, 
And  my  invention  thrive,  Edmund  the  base 
Shall  top  the  legitimate.     1  grow:  I  prosper: — 
Now,  gods,  stand  up  for  bastards.  K.  L.  i.  2 

dATCHELOR. 

Because  I  will  not  do  them  the  wrong  to  mistrust  any,  | 


BAT       fjrtlttfftftrUB  Dutinitartj.       BAT 

BATCIIELOR,— continued. 

will  do  myself  the  right  to  trust  none ;  and  the  fine  is,  fot 
the  which  I  may  go  the  finer,  I  will  live  a  batchelor. 

M.  A.  i.  L 
Shall  I  never  see  a  batchelor  of  three  score  again  ? 

M.  A.  i.  1. 

's  RECANTATION. 

When  I  said  I  would  die  a  batchelor,  I  did  not  think  I 
should  live  till  I  were  married.  M.  A.  ii.  3. 

BATTLE  (See  also  AVAR). 

With  boisterous  untun'd  drums, 
And  harsh  resounding  trumpets'  dreadful  bray, 
And  grating  shock  of  wrathful  iron  arms.  R.  II.  i.  3. 

Being  mounted,  and  both  roused  in  their  seats, 
Their  neighing  coursers  daring  of  the  spur, 
Their  armed  staves  in  charge,  their  beavers  down, 
Their  eyes  of  fire  sparkling  through  sights  of-  steel, 
And  the  loud  trumpet  blowing  them  together. 

H.  IV.  PT.  n.  IT.  1 

Once  more  unto  the  breach,  dear  friends,  once  more ; 

Or  close  the  wall  up  with  our  English  dead  I 

In  peace,  there's  nothing  so  becomes  a  man, 

As  modest  stillness  and  humility: 

But  when  the  blast  of  war  blows  in  our  ears, 

Then  imitate  the  action  of  the  tyger ; 

Stiffen  the  sinews,  summon  up  the  blood,  - 

Disguise  fair  nature  with  hard-fa  vour'd  rage : 

Then  lend  the  eye  a  terrible  aspect : 

Let  it  pry  through  the  portals  of  the  head, 

Like  the  brass  cannon ;  let  the  brow  o'erwhelm  it 

As  fearfully  as  doth  the  galled  rock 

O'er-hang  and  jutty  his  confounded  base, 

Swill'd  with  the  wild  and  wasteful  ocean. 

Now  set  the  teeth  and  stretch  the  nostrils  wide, 

Hold  hard  the  breath,  and  bend  up  'every  spirit 

To  his  full  height  I     On,  on,  you  noble  English.    H,  V.  ii.  1. 

A  thousand  Ii  parts  are  great  within  my  bosom  : 

Advance  uu.  standards  ;  set  upon  our  foes ! 

Our  ancient  word  of  courages-fair  St.  George, 

Inspires  us  with  the  spleen  of  fiery  dragons  1 

Upon  them  1  J2.  J2Z  T.  3. 

Fight,  r r-ntlemen  of  England  ;  fight  boldly,  yeomen ; 
Draw,  archers,  draw  your  arrows  to  the  head. 
Spur  your  proud  horses  hard,  and  ride  in  blood : 
Amaze  the  welkin  with  your  broken  staves.      R.  UL  T.  3. 


BAT       iifuittsjirariaii  iirtinuartj.       BAI 

BY  TTLE,— continued. 

This  battle  fares  like  to  the  morning's  war, 

When  dying  chads  oontend  with  growing  light ; 

What  time  the  shepherd  blowing  of  his  nails, 

Can  neither  call  it  perfect  day,  or  night. 

Now  sways  it  this  way  like  a  mighty  sea, 

Forc'd  by  the  tide  to  combat  with  the  wind  ; 

Now  sways  it  that  way,  like  the  self-same  sea, 

Forc'd  to  retire  by  fury  of  the  wind : 

Sometimes  the  flood  prevails  ;  and  then  the  wind  : 

Now,  one  the  better  ;  then,  another  best ; 

Both  tugging  to  be  victors,  breast  to  breast, 

Yet  neither  conqueror  nor  conquered  : 

So  is  the  equal  poize  of  the  fell  war.       H.  VI.  PT.  HI.  ii.  5 

My  uncles  both  are  slain  in  rescuing  me  ; 

And  all  my  followers  to  the  eager  foe 

Turn  back,  and  fly,  like  ships  before  the  wind, 

Or  lambs  pursued  by  hunger-starved  wolves. 

My  sons,— God  knows, — what  hath  bechanced  them  : 

But  this  I  know, — they  have  demean'd  themselves 

Like  men  borne  to  renown,  by  life,  or  death. 

Three  times  did  Richard  make  a  lane  to  me  ; 

And  thrice  cried, — Courage,  father  I  Fight  it  out ! 

And  full  as  oft  came  Edward  to  my  side 

With  purple  faulchion,  painted  to  the  hilt 

In  blood  of  those  that  had  encountered  him. 

And  when  the  hardest  warriors  did  retire, 

Richard  cried, — Charge  I  and  give  no  fool  of  ground  I 

And  cried, — A  crown,  or  else  a  glorious  tomb  ! 

A  sceptre  I  or  an  earthly  sepulchre  1 

With  this,  we  charg'd  again.  H.  VI.  PT.  HI.  i.  4 

Never  did  captive  with  a  freer  heart 

Cast  off  his  chains  of  bondage,  and  embrace 

His  golden  uncontroll'd  enfranchisement, 

More  than  my  dancing  soul  doth  celebrate 

This  feast  of  battle  with  mine  adversary.  B.  II.  i.  3 

Let  each  man  do  his  best :  and  here  draw  I 

A  sword,  whose  temper  I  intend  to  stain 

With  the  best  blood  that  I  can  meet  withal, 

In  the  adventure  of  this  perilous  day. 

Now,— .Ksperanee  /    Percy ! — and  set  on. 

Sound  all  the  lofty  instruments  of  war, 

And  by  that  music  let  us  all  embrace : 

For  heaven  to  earth,  some  of  us  never  shall 

A  second  time  do  such  a  courtesy.  H.  IV.  PT.  i.  T.  2 

Heaven  in  thy  good  cause  make  thee  prosperous  ! 

B«  iwift  like  lightning  in  the  execution  ; 


BAT       i)ik*i?*irtii  SHrlinmini.       BAI 

BATTLE,— continued. 

And  let  thy  blows,  doubly  redoubled, 

Fall  like  amazing  tli under  on  the  casquo 

Of  thy  amaz'd  pernicious  enemy.  B.  II.  L3. 

In  single  opposition,  hand  to  hand, 

He  did  confound  the  best  part  of  an  hour 

In  changing  hardiment  with  great  Glendower : 

Three  times  they  breath'd,  and  three  times  did  they  drink, 

Upon  agreement,  of  swift  Severn's  flood ; 

Who  then  affrighted  with  their  bloody  looks, 

Ran  fearfully  among  the  trembling  reeds, 

And  hid  his  crisp  head  in  the  hollow  bank, 

Blood-stained  with  these  valiant  combatants. 

H.  IV.  FT.  1. 1.  3. 
Prepare  you,  generals : 
The  enemy  comes  on  in  gallant  show; 
Their  bloody  sign  of  battle  is  hung  out, 
And  something  to  be  done  immediately.  /.  C.  T.  1. 

We  few,  we  happy  few,  we  band  of  brothers 
For  he,  to-day,  that  sheds  his  blood  with  me. 
Shall  be  my  brother  ;  be  he  ne'er  so  vile, 
This  day  shall  gentle  his  condition  : 
And  gentlemen  in  England  now  abed 
Shall  think  themselves  accurs'd,  they  were  not  here ; 
And  hold  their  manhoods  cheap,  while  any  speaks, 
That  fought  with  us  upon  St.  Crispin's  day.         H.  V.  iv.  3 

For  the  love  of  all  the  gods, 
Let's  leave  the  hermit  pity  with  our  mothers  ; 
And  when  we  have  our  armours  buckled  on, 
The  venom'd  vengeance  ride  upon  our  swords.     T.  C.  r.  3 

Let's  whip  these  stragglers  o'er  the  seas  again  ; 
Lash  hence  these  over- weening  rags  of  France, 
These  famish'd  beggars,  weary  of  their  lives ; 
Who,  but  for  dreaming  on  this  fond  exploit, 
For  want  of  means,  poor  rats,  had  hang'd  themselves. 

R.HIv.  3 

I'll  lean  upon  one  crutch,  and  fight  with  the  other, 
Ere  stay  behind  this  business.  C.  i.  1 

OP  AOINCOURT,  PREPARATIONS  FOR  THB. 

Now  entertain  conjecture  of  a  time, 

When  creeping  murmur  and  the  poring  dark, 

Fill  the  wide  vessel  of  the  universe. 

From  camp  to  camp,  through  the  foul  womb  of  night, 

The  hum  of  either  army  stilly  sounds, 

That  the  fixed  sentinels  aimost  receive 

Jhe  secret  whispers  of  each  other's  watch  ; 


BAI       f  jjakjHpmiatt  Biriittirq. 


BATTLE,—  continued. 

Fire  answers  tire  ;  and  through  their  paly  flames, 

Each  battle  sees  the  other's  umbered  face  : 

Steed  threatens  steed  in  high  and  boastful  neighs, 

Piercing  the  night's  dull  ear  ;  and  from  the  tents, 

The  armourers  accomplishing  the  knights, 

With  busy  hammers  closing  rivets  up, 

Give  dreadful  note  of  preparation. 

The  country  cocks  do  crow  ;  the  clocks  do  toll, 

And  the  third  hour  of  drowsy  morning  name. 

Proud  of  their  numbers,  and  secure  in  soul, 

The  confident  and  over-lusty  French 

Do  the  low-rated  English  play  at  dice  ; 

And  chide  the  cripple  tardy-gaited  night, 

Who,  like  a  foul  and  ugly  witch,  doth  limp 

So  tediously  away.     The  poor  condemned  English, 

Like  sacrifices  by  their  watchful  fires 

Sit  patiently,  and  inly  ruminate 

The  morning's  danger  ;  and  their  gestures  sad, 

Investing  lank-lean  cheeks,  and  war-worn  coats, 

Presenteth  them  unto  the  gazing  moon 

So  many  horrid  ghosts.  H.  V.  iv.  c7«w 

BEARD. 

He  that  hath  a  beard  is  more  than  a  youth  :  and  he  that 
hath  none,  is  less  than  a  man.  M.  A.  ii.  1. 

Now,  Jove,  in  his  next  commodity  of  hair,  send  thee  a 
beard  I  T.  N.  iii.  1, 

BEAU. 

This  gallant  pins  the  wenches  on  his  sleeve  ; 

Had  he  been  Adam  he  had  tempted  Eve  : 

He  can  carve  too,  and  lisp  :  Why  this  is  he, 

That  kiss'd  away  his  hand  in  courtesy  ; 

This  is  the  ape  of  form,  monsieur  the  nice, 

That  when  he  plays  at  tables,  chides  the  dice 

In  honourable  terms.  L.  L.  v.  2. 

BEAUX,  SCENTED. 

Like  many  of  these  lisping  hawthorn  buds,  that  come 
like  women  in  men's  apparel,  and  smell  like  Buoklersbury 
in  simple-time.  M.  W.  iii.  3. 

BEAUTY. 

Beauty  is  but  a  vain  and  doubtful  good, 

A  shining  gloss  that  vadeth  suddainly, 
A  flower  that  dies<  when  first  it  'gins  to  bud, 

A  brittle  glass  that's  broken  presently. 
A  doubtful  good,  a  gloss,  a  glass,  a  flower, 
Loit,  vaded,  broken,  dead,  within  an  hour. 
II 


BEA       Ijnikrspatian  Dirtinnatt|.        BEA 

BEAUTY,— continued. 

By  Jupiter,  an  angel !  or,  if  not, 

An  earthly  paragon !.  Gym.  Hi.  6. 

A  wither'd  hermit,  five  score  winters  worn, 

Might  shake  off  fifty  looking  in  her  eye.  L.  L.  iv.  3. 

The  most  peerless  piece  of  earth,  I  think, 
That  e'er  the  sun  shone  bright  on.  W.T.  v.  1. 

'Tis  beauty  truly  blent,  whose  red  and  white 
Nature's  own  sweet  and  cunning  hand  laid  on  : 
Lady,  you  are  the  cruellest  she  alive, 
If  you  will  lead  these  graces  to  the  grave, 
And  leave  the  world  no  copy.  T.  N-  i.  5 

There's  nothing  ill  can  dwell  in  such  a  temple.          T.  i.  2 

Her  sunny  locks 
Hang  on  her  temples  like  a  golden  fleece.  M.  V.  i.  1. 

As  plays  the  sun  upon  the  glassy  streams ; 

Twinkling  another  counterfeited  beam, 

So  seems  this  gorgeous  beauty  to  mine  eyes. 

H.  VI.  FT.  i.  v.  3. 
This  is  such  a  creature, 

Would  she  begin  a  sect,  might  quench  the  zeal 
Of  all  professors  else ;  make  proselytes 
Of  who  she  but  bid  follow.  W.  T.  v.  1 

I  saw  her  once 

Hop  forty  paces  through  the  public  street 
And  having  lost  her  breath,  she  spoke,  and  panted, 
That  she  did  make  defect  perfection, 
And,  breathless,  power  breathe  forth.  A.  G.  ii.  2 

All  hearts  in  love  use  their  own  tongues ; 
Let  every  eye  negociate  for  itself, 
And  trust  no  agent ;  for  beauty  is  a  witch, 
Against  whose  charms  faith  melteth  into  blood.   M.  A.  ii.  1. 

She  speaks : — 

0  speak  again,  bright  angel !  for  thou  art 

As  glorious  to  this  night,  being  o'er  my  head, 

As  is  a  winged  messenger  of  heaven 

Unto  the  white-upturned  wond'ring  eyes 

Of  mortals,  that  fall  back  to  gaze  on  him, 

When  he  bestrides  the  lazy-pacing  clouds, 

And  sails  upon  the  bosom  of  the  air.  B.  J.  ii  2. 

0  she  doth  teach  the  torches  to  burn  bright ! 

Her  beauty  hangs  upon  the  cheek  of  night 

lake  a  rich  jewel  in  an  Ethiop's  ear ; 

Beauty  too  rich  for  use,  for  earth  too  de^r.  J?.  /.  i.  5k 


BEA       Ijickuspariutt  iirtionnnj.       BED 

BEAUTY,— continued. 

Beauty  is  bought  by  judgment  of  the  eye, 

Not  utter'd  by  base  sale  of  chapmen's  tongues.   L.  L.  ii.  1, 

She's  a  most  exquisite  lady.  0.  ii.  3. 

She's  beautiful ;  and  therefore  to  be  woo'd : 

She  is  a  woman  ;  therefore  to  be  won.       H.  VI.  FT.  i.  v.  3. 

It  shall  be  inventoried ;  and  every  particle,  and  utensil, 
labelled  to  my  will ;  as,  item,  two  lips,  indifferent  red ; 
item,  two  grey  eyes,  with  lids  to  them  ;  item,  one  nock,  one 
chin,  and  so  forth.  T.  N.  i.  4. 

I  know  a  wench  of  excellent  discourse, 
Pretty,  and  witty ;  wild,  and  yet,  too,  gentle.     C.  E.  iii.  1. 
Beauty  provoketh  thieves  sooner  than  gold.  A.T.  i.  3. 

There  was  never  yet  fair  woman  but  she  made  mouths 
in  a  glass.  K.  L.  iii.  2. 

When  in  the  chronicle  of  wasted  time, 

I  see  descriptions  of  the  fairest  wights, 
And  beauty  making  beautiful  old  rime, 

In  praise  of  ladies  dead,  and  lovely  knights, 
Then  in  the  blazon  of  sweet  beauty's  host, 

Of  hand,  of  foot,  of  lip,  of  eye,  of  brow, 
I  see  their  antique  pen  would  have  expressed 

Even  such  a  beauty  as  you  master  now.  Poem*. 

• AND  DECEIT. 

0  serpent  heart,  hid  with  a  flowering  face  I 

Did  ever  dragon  keep  so  fair  a  cave  ? 

Beautiful  tyrant  I  fiend  angelical  I 

Dove-feather'd  raven  I  wplvish-ravening  lamb  I 

Despised  substance  of  divinest  show  I 

Just  opposite  to  what  thou  justly  seem'st, 

A  damned  saint,  an  honourable  villain  I — 

0,  nature  I — what  had'st  thou  to  do  in  hell, 

When  thou  didst  bower  the  spirit  of  a  fiend 

In  mortal  paradise  of  such  sweet  flesh  ? 

Was  ever  book,  containing  such  vile  matter, 

So  fairly  bound  ?    0,  that  deceit  should  dwell 

In  such  a  gorgeous  palace !  It.  J.  iii.  2, 

0  beauty  1  where's  thy  faith  I  T.C.  v.  2, 

AND  HONESTY. 

Honesty  coupled  to  beauty,  is  to  have  honey  sauce  U 
sugar.  A.V.  iii.  3 

BEDLAM  BEGGARS. 

The  country  gives  me  proof  and  precedent 
Of  Bedlam  beggars,  who,  with  roaring  voices, 
in  their  numb'd  and  mortified  bare  arms, 
M 


BED       Ijinhaprnrinn  Stdinttnnj. 

BEDLAM  BEGGARS, — amtinued. 

Kns,  wooden  pricks,  nails,  sprigs  of  rc^cmary ; 
And  with  this  horrible  object,  from  low  farms, 
Poor  pelting  villages,  sheep  cotes,  and  mills, 
Sometimes  with  lunatic  buns,  sometimes  with  prayers, 
Inforce  their  charity.  K.  L.  ii.  3. 

BEES. 

So  work  the  honey  bees ; 
Creatures,  that  by  a  rule  in  nature  teach 
The  art  of  order  to  a  peopled  kingdom. 
They  have  a  king,  and  officers  of  sorts  ; 
Where  some,  like  magistrates,  correct  at  borne ; 
Others,  like  merchants,  venture  trade  abroad  ; 
Others,  like  soldiers,  armed  in  their  stings, 
Make  boot  upon  the  summer's  velvet  buds  ; 
Which  pillage  they  with  merry  march  bring  home, 
To  the  tent-royal  of  their  emperor ; 
Who,  busied  in  his  majesty,  surveys 
The  singing  masons  building  roofs  of  gold  ; 
The  civil  citizens  kneading  up  the  honey ; 
The  poor  mechanic  porters  crowding  in 
Their  heavy  burdens  at  his  narrow  gate ; 
The  sad-ey'd  justice,  with  his  surly  hum, 
Delivering  o'er  to  executors  pale 
The  lazy  yawning  drone.  H.  V  5.2, 

BEGGARS. 

The  adage  must  be  verified, 

That  beggars  mounted,  run  their  horse  to  death. 

H.VL  PT.  in.  i.  4. 

Well,  whiles  I  am  a  beggar,  I  will  rail, 

And  say, — there  is  no  sin,  but  to  be  rich  ; 

And  being  rich,  my  virtue  then  shall  be, 

To  say, — there  is  no  vice  but  beggary.  K.  7.  ii.  2. 

What !  a  young  knave,  and  beg !  Is  there  not  wars  T  is 
there  not  employment  ?  Doth  not  the  king  lack  subjects  ? 
Do  not  the  rebels  need  soldiers  ?  Though  it  be  a  shame  to 
be  on  any  side  but  one,  it  is  worse  shame  to  beg  than  to  be 
on  the  worst  side,  were  it  worse  than  the  name  of  rebellion 
can  tell  how  to  make  it.  H.  IV.  PT.  ii.  i.  2. 

Speak  with  me,  pity  me,  open  the  door, 

A  beggar  begs  that  never  begg'd  before.  R.  IL  v.  3. 

You  taught  me  first  to  beg ;  and  now,  methinks, 
You  teach  me  how  a  beggar  should  be  answerM. 

M.V.  iT  1 

N 


BEG       IjinlttBjnnnnn  Dirtinnnrq.        BZB 

BEGONE. 

Rogues,  hence,  avaunt !  vanish  like  hailstones,  go  1 
Trudge,  plod,  away,  o'  th'  hoof ;  seek  shelter,  pack ! 

JETT.i.3 
Hag-seed,  hence  1  T,  i  2. 

BENEDICTION  (See  also  SALUTATION). 

The  benediction  of  these  covering  heavens 

Fall  on  their  heads  like  dew !  Gym.  v.  5. 

May  he  live  1 

Longer  than  I  have  time  to  tell  his  years  I 
Ever  belov'd,  and  loving  may  his  rule  be ! 
And  when  old  Time  shall  lead  him  to  his  end, 
Goodness  and  he  fill  up  one  monument !  H.  VIII.  ii.  1 

Bless  thy  five  wits.  K.  L.  iii.  4 

PARENTAL. 

And  make  me  die  a  good  old  man  I 
That  is  the  butt  end  of  a  mother's  blessing ; 
I  marvel  that  her  grace  did  leave  it  out.  R.  ni.  ii.  2 

MILITARY. 


Now  the  fair  goddess,  Fortune, 
Fall  deep  in  love  with  thee  ;  and  her  great  charms 
Misguide  thy  opposers'  swords  I     Bold  gentleman, 
Prosperity  be  thy  page  I  C.  i.  5. 

All  the  gods  go  with  you  1  upon  your  sword 

Sit  laurell'd  victory !  and  smooth  success 

Be  strew'd  before  your  feet.  A.C.  1. 3. 

Mars  dote  on  you  for  his  novices.  A.  W.  ii.  1. 

BEWAILINGS  (See  also  LAMENTATION). 

Where  thou  didst  vent  thy  groans 
As  fast  as  mill-wheels  strike.  T.  i.  2 

BILLOWS. 

What  care  these  roarers  for  the  name  of  king  ?         T.\.\ 

BIOGRAPHY. 

I  long 

To  hear  the  story  of  your  life,  which  must 
Take  the  ear  strangely.  T.  v.  1. 

BIRDS,  ENCAGED. 

Such  a  pleasure  as  incaged  birds 
Conceive,  when,  after  many  moody  thoughts, 
At  last,  by  notes  of  household  harmony, 
They  quite  forget  their  loss  of  liberty. 

H.  VL  rr.  ni.  IT.  ft, 

M 


OLA        Ijiakjapmrifltt  Uirtinnarij.        BLC 

BLACK. 

Black,  forsooth,  coal  black  as  jet.  H.  VI.  PT.  n.  ii.  1. 

Coal  black  is  better  than  another  hue, 

In  that  it  scorns  to  bear  another  hue.  Tit.  And.  iv.  2, 

All  the  water  in  the  ocean 

Can  never  turn  a  swan's  black  legs  to  white, 

Although  she  lave  them  hourly  in  the  flood.    Tit.  And.  iv.  2. 

Black  is  the  badge  of  hell, 
The  hue  of  dungeons,  and  the  scowl  of  night.     L.  L.  iv.  3. 

BLAME  ABLE. 

You  shall  not  sin, 

If  you  do  say,  we  think  him  over  proud, 
And  under  honest.  T.  O.  ii.  3. 

BLEMISHES. 

In  nature,  there's  no  blemish  but  the  mind ; 

None  can  be  called  deformed  but  the  unkind  : 

Virtue  is  beauty  ;  but  the  beauteous-evil 

Are  empty  trunks,  o'er-flourished  by  the  devil.     T.  N.  iii.  4 

Read  not  my  blemishes  in  the  world's  report : 

1  have  not  kept  my  square  ;  but  that  to  come 

Shall  all  be  done  by  the  rule.  A.C.  ii.  3 

BLOT  (See  also  STAIN). 

Mark'd  with  a  blot,  damn'd  in  the  book  of  heaven. 

R.  IL  iv.  1 

rfLUNTNESS. 

This  is  some  fellow, 

Who,  having  been  prais'd  for  bluntness,  doth  affect 
A  saucy  roughness  ;  and  constrains  the  garb 
Quite  from  his  nature.     He  can't  flatter,  he ! — 
"Sn  honest  man  and  plain, — he  must  speak  truth : 
An  they  will  take  it,  so ;  if  not,  he's  plain. 
This  kind  of  knaves  I  know,  which  in  this  plainness, 
Harbour  more  craft,  and  more  corrupter  ends 
Than  twenty  silly  ducking  observants, 
That  stretch  their  duties  nicely.  K.  L.  ii.  2 

I  am  no  orator  as  Brutus  is : 
But,  as  you  know  me  all,  a  plain  blunt  man, 
That  love  my  friend  ;  and  that  they  know  full  well 
That  gave  me  public  leave  to  speak  of  him.      x 
For  I  have  neither  wit,  nor  words,  nor  worth, 
Action,  nor  utterance,  nor  the  power  of  speech, 
To  stir  men's  blood :  I  only  speak  right  on.          /.  C.  iii.  2 

BLUSHES. 

Tho  heart's  meteors  tilting  in  the  face.  C.  E.  iv.  2 

•7  * 


BLD       IjjakBspnrian  Iirtinttart{.       BOO 


BLUSHES,—  continued. 

Now,  if  you  can  blush,  and  cry  guilty,  cardinal, 
You'll  show  a  little  honesty.    "  H.  VIII.  iii.  2 

And  bid  the  cheek  be  ready  with  a  blush, 
Modest  as  morning  when  she  coldly  eyes 
The  youthful  Phoebus.  T.C.  i.  3. 

Come,  quench  your  blushes  ;  and  present  yourself  thai 
which  you  are,  the  mistress  of  the  feast.  W.T.  iv.  3. 

UOASTING. 

And  topping  all  others  in  boasting.  C.  ii.  1. 

0,  Sir,  to  such  as  boasting  show  their  scars, 
A  mock  is  due.  T.C.  iv.  5. 

Why,  Valentine,  what  Braggardism  is  this!          T.C.  ii.  4 

BOLDNESS. 

What  I  think,  I  utter;  and  spend  my  malice  in  my  breath. 

C.  ii.  1 

Think'  st  thou  that  duty  shall  have  dread  to  speak, 
When  power  to  flattery  bows  ?   To  plainness  honour's  bound, 
When  majesty  stoops  to  folly.  K.  L.'\.  1. 

BOLD  EXTERIOR. 

We'll  have  a  swashing  and  a  martial  outside  ; 

As  many  other  mannish  cowards  have, 

That  do  outface  it  with  their  semblances.  A.  T.  i  3. 

BOMBAST. 

These  signs  have  mark'd  me  extraordinary, 

And  all  the  courses  of  my  life  do  show 

I  am  not  in  the  roll  of  common  men.        II.  IV.  FT.  i.  iii.  1. 

BONDS  (See  also  INFLEXIBILITY). 

I'll  have  my  bond  ;  speak  not  against  my  bond  : 
I  have  sworn  an  oath,  that  I  will  have  my  bond. 

M.V.  iii.  3. 

BONES,  HUMAN. 

Chapless,  and  knock'd  about  the  mazzard  with  a  sexton's 
3iftdo  :  Here's  a  fine  revolution,  an'  we  had  the  trick  to 
see't!  H.  v.  1. 

BOOBY. 

Thou  art  bought  and  sold,  among  those  of  any  wit,  like 
a  Barbarian  slave.  T.  C.  ii.  1. 

BOOKS,  CONSOLATION  OF. 

Come,  and  take  choice  of  all  my  library 

And  so  beguile  thy  sorrow.  Til.  And.  iv.  1, 


BOO       Ihubspminn  iirtinnanj.       BRA 


BOOK-COVERS. 

Tbat  book,  in  many's  eyes  doth  share  the  glory, 

That  in  gold  clasps,  locks  in  the  golden  story.       It.  J  i  ft 

BOOK-WORMS. 

Small  have  continual  plodders  ever  won 

Save  base  authority  from  others'  books.  L.  L.  i.  1. 

BORROWING. 

Timon  is  shrunk  indeed ; 
And  he,  that's  once  denied,  will  hardly  speed.    T.  A.  iii.  2. 

I  can  get  no  remedy  against  this  consumption  of  the 
purse  ;  borrowing  only  lingers  and  lingers  it  out,  but  _the 
disease  is  incurable.  '  H.  IV.  PT.  11.  i.  2, 

BOUNTY. 

'Tis  pity  bounty  had  not  eyes  behind ; 

That  man  might  ne'er  be  wretched  for  his  mind. 

T.  A.  i.  2. 

Magic  of  bounty  !  all  these  spirits  thy  power 

Hath  conjur'd  to  attend.  T.  A.  i.  1. 

For  his  bounty, 

There  was  no  winter  in't ;  an  autumn  'twas, 
That  grew  the  more  by  reaping,  A.  C.  v.  2. 

No  villainous  bounty  yet  hath  pass'd  my  heart ; 
Unwisely,  not  ignobly,  have  I  given.  T.  A.  ii.  2. 

ILL-REQUITED. 


Even  so  ; 

As  with  a  man  by  his  own  alms  empoison'd, 

And  with  his  charity  slain.  C.  v.  5. 

BRAGGARTS. 

A  mad-cap  ruffian,  and  a  swearing  Jack, 

That  thinks  with  oaths  to  face  tho  matter  out.       T.  S.  ii.  1. 

I  know  them,  yea, 

And  what  they  weigh,  even  to  the  utmost  scruple  ; 
Scambling,  out-facing,  fashion-mong'ring  boys, 
That  lie,  and  cog,  and  flout,  deprave,  and  slander, 
Go  anticly,  and  show  an  outward  hideousness, 
And  speak  off  half  a  dozen  dangerous  words, 
How  they  might  hurt  their  enemies  if  they  durst ; 
And  this  is  all.  M.  A.  v.  1 

He  speaks  plain  cannon,  fire,  and  smoke,  and  bounce ; 
He  gives  the  bastinado  with  his  tongue  ; 
Our  ears  are  cudgell'd  ;  not  a  word  of  his, 
But  buffets  better  than  a  fist  of  France  ; 
Zounds  !  I  was  never  so  bethump'd  with  words.   JT.  /.  U.  2. 
39 


BRA       $]r&kfiptftriira  Dirtifliunj        BRJ 

BRAGGARTS,— continued. 

Who  knows  himself  a  braggart, 
Let  him  fear  this  ;  for  it  will  come  to  pass 
That  every  braggart  shall  be  found  an  ass.          A.  W.  iv.  3 
What  cracker  is  this  same,  which  deafs  our  ears 
With  this  abundance  of  superfluous  breath  ?        K.  J.  ii.  1 

Here's  a  large  mouth,  indeed, 

That  spits  forth  death,  and  mountains,  rocks  and  seas ; 
Talks  as  familiarly  of  roaring  lions, 
As  maids  of  thirteen  do  of  puppy  dogs.  K.  J.  ii.  2 

What  art  thou  ?     Have  not  I 
An  arm  as  big  as  thine  ?  a  heart  as  big  ? 
Thy  words,  I  grant,  are  bigger  ;  for  I  wear  not 
My  dagger  in  my  mouth.  Cym.  iv.  2, 

BRAINS. 

Not  Hercules 
Could  have  knock'd  out  his  brains,  for  he  had  none. 

Cym.  iv.  2. 

Hector  shall  have  a  great  catch,  if  he  knock  out  either 
of  your  brains ;  a'  were  as  good  crack  a  fusty  nut  with 
no  kernel.  T.  C.  ii.  1 

BRAWLS. 

Swords  out,  and  tilting  one  at  other's  breast, 
In  opposition  bloody.  0.  ii.  3. 

I  pray  you  to  serve  Got,  and  keep  you  out  of  prawls  and 
prabbles,  and  quarrels,  and  dissentions,  and,  I  warrant  you, 
it  is  the  petter  for  you.  H.  V.  iv.  8. 

What's  the  matter, 

That  you  unlace  your  reputation  thus, 
And  spend  your  rich  opinion  for  the  name 
Of  a  night  brawler  ?  0.  ii,  3. 

Help,  masters  I — Here's  a  goodly  watch,  indeed.      0.  ii.  3- 

BREEDING. 

Highly  fed,  and  lowly  taught.  A.  W,  ii.  1. 

BREVITY. 

Therefore, — since  brevity  is  the  soul  of  wit, 

And  tediousness  the  limbs  and  outward  flourishes, 

I  will  be  brief.  H.  ii.  2 

BRIBERY. 

Shall  we  now 

Contaminate  our  fingers  with  base  bribes  ? 
And  sell  the  mighty  space  of  our  large  honours, 
much  trash  as  may  be  grasped  thus  ? 
40 


BRI        f  )ffJttfftirift>  Sittinnflnj.       BUT 

BRIBERY,— continued. 

I  had  rather  be  a  dog  and  bay  the  moon, 

Than  such  a  Roman.  J.  O.  iv.  3. 

You  yourself 

Are  much  condemn' a  to  have  an  itching  palm ; 
To  sell  and  mart  your  offices  for  gold, 
To  undeservers.  J.  C.  iv.  3. 

BRITAIN  (See  also  ENGLAND). 
Britain  is 

A  world  by  itself;  and  we  will  nothing  pay 
For  wearing  our  own  noses.  Cym.  iii.  1. 

Which  stands 

As  Neptune's  park,  ribbed  and  paled  in 
With  rocks  unscaleable,  and  roaring  waters.       Cym.  Ui.  1. 

I'  the  world's  volume, 
Our  Britain  is  as  of  it,  but  not  in  it ; 
In  a  great  pool,  a  swan's  nest.  Cym.  iii.  i 

BROILS,  DOMESTIC. 

Wars  are  no  strife 
To  the  dark  house,  and  the  detested  wife.  A.  W.  ii.  & 

BRUTUS. 

This  was  the  noblest  Roman  of  them  all ; 

All  the  conspirators,  save  only  he, 

Did  that  they  did  in  envy  of  great  Caesar  ; 

He,  only,  in  a  general  honest  thought, 

And  common  good  to  all,  made  one  of  them. 

His  life  was  gentle ;  and  the  elements 

So  mix'd  in  him,  that  Nature  might  stand  up 

And  say  to  all  the  world :  This  was  a  man  !  /.  C.  v.  3 

BUBBLES. 

The  earth  hath  bubbles,  as  the  water  hath, 

And  these  are  of  them.  M.  i.  3 

On  my  life,  my  lord,  a  bubble.  A.  W.  iii.  6 

BUTTON-HOLDER. 

Sometimes  he  angers  me, 

With  telling  me  of  the  mold-warp,  and  the  ant, 
Of  the  dreamer  Merlin,  and  his  prophecies ; 
And  of  a  dragon  and  a  finless  fish, 
A  clip-wing'd  griffin,  and  a  moulten  raven, 
A  couching  lion,  and  a  rampant  cat, 
And  such  a  deal  of  skimble-skamble  stuff 
As  puts  me  from  my  faith.     I'll  tell  you  what, — 
He  held  me,  but  last  night,  at  least  nine  hours, 
Jn  reckoning  up  the  several  devils'  names, 

41  f» 


BIT       Ijjnkf 0pm nut  Uirtinnarij. 

BUTTON  -HOLDER,— continued. 

That  were  his  lackeys:  I  cried — humph, — and  well — go 

But  mark'd  him  not  a  word.     0  he's  as  tedious 

As  is  a  tired  horse,  a  railing  wife  ; 

Worse  than  a  smoky  house :  I  had  rather  live 

With  cheese  and  garlick,  in  a  windmill,  far, 

Than  feed  on  cates,  and  have  him  talk  to  me, 

In  any  summer-house  in  Christendom.    H.  IV.  PT.  i.  iii.  L 

BUT  YET. 

I  do  not  like  but  yet,  it  does  allay 

The  good  precedence  ;  fie  upon  out  yet ; 

But  yet  is  as  a  jailer  to  bring  forth 

Some  monstrous  malefactor.     Pr'ythee,  friend, 

Pour  out  the  pack  of  matter  to  mine  ear, 

The  good  and  bad  together.  A.  C.  iL  6 


CALUMNY  (See  also  SLANDEB.) 

Beck-wounding  calumny 
The  whitest  virtue  strikes.  M.  M.  iii.  2. 

Be  thou  as  chaste  as  ice,  as  pure  as  snow,  thou 

Shalt  not  escape  calumny.  H.  iii.  1. 

That  thou  art  blam'd,  shall  not  be  thy  defect, 

For  slander's  mark  was  ever  yet  the  fair.  Poemt. 

CANDOUR. 

Speak  of  me  as  I  am  ;  nothing  extenuate, 

Nor  set  down  aught  in  malice.  O.  v.  3 

In  simple  and  pure  soul  I  come  to  you.  0.  i.  1 

CANNONADE  (See  also  SIEGE). 

By  east  and  west,  let  France  and  England  mount 

Their  battering  cannon,  charged  to  the  mouths  ; 

Till  their  soul-fearing  clamours  have  brawl'd  down 

The  flinty  ribs  of  this  contemptuous  city : 

I'd  play  incessantly  upon  these  jades. 

Ev*n  till  unfenced  desolation 

Leave  them  as  naked  as  the  vulgar  air.  K.  J.  ii.  2. 

CAPACITY. 

The  truth  is,  I  am  only  old  in  judgment  and  understand- 
ing ;  and  he  that  will  caper  with  me  for  a  thousand  murks, 
let  him  Ijnd  me  the  money,  and  have  at  him. 

#  IV,  FT.  H.  i.  & 

f 


CAP       ^jjahsprnnan  5irtiannn|.       CAD 

CAPTAIN,  THE  TITLE  OF,  PROSTIT[JTED. 

Captain !  thou  abominable  cheater,  art  thou  not  ashamed 
to  be  called  captain  ?  If  captains  were  of  my  mind,  they 
would  truncheon  you  out,  for  taking  their  names  upon  yon 
before  you  have  earned  them.  You  a  captain,  you  slave  1 
for  what  ?  A  captain  !  these  villains  will  make  the  word 
captain  odious :  therefore,  captains  had  nood  look  to  it. 

H.  IV.  I>T.  ii.  ii.  4. 

CAPTIOUSNESS. 

You  must  needs  learn,  lord,  to  amend  this  fault. 

Though  sometimes  it  show  greatness,  courage,  blood. 

(And  that's  the  dearest  grace  it  renders  you) 

Yet  oftentimes  it  doth  present  harsh  rage, 

Defect  of  manners,  want  of  government, 

Pride, haughtiness,  opinion,  and  disdain: 

The  least  of  which  haunting  a  nobleman, 

Loseth  men's  hearts ;  and  leaves  behind  a  stain 

Upon  the  beauty  of  all  parts  besides, 

Beguiling  them  of  commendation.  H.  IV.  PT.  i.  iii.  1. 

CARE. 

Care  keeps  his  watch  in  every  old  man's  eye, 
And  where  care  lodges  sleep  will  never  lie ; 
But  where  unbrnised  youth  with  unstufPd  brain 
Doth  couch  his  limbs,  there  golden  sleep  doth  reign. 

R.  J.  ii.  8. 

You  lay  out  too  much  pains, 
For  purchasing  but  trouble.  Cym.  ii.  3. 

CARNAGE. 

Slaying  is  the  word ; 
It  is  a  deed  in  fashion.  J.C.  v.  5. 

OAVALIER. 

But  he,  as  loving  his  own  pride  and  purposes, 

Evades  them  with  a  bombast  circumstance, 

Horribly  stuflfd  with  epithets  of  war ; 

And,  in  conclusion,  nonsuits 

My  mediators.  O.  i.  I 

CAVILLER. 

I'll  give  thrice  so  much  land 
To  any  well  deserving  friend ; 
But  in  the  way  of  bargain,  mark  you  me, 
I'll  cavil  on  the  ninth  part  of  a  hair.        H.  IV.  PT.  i.  iii.  1 

OAUSE,  COMMON. 

For  'tis  a  cause  that  hath  no  mean  dependence 
Upon  our  joint  and  several  dignities.  T.  C.  ii.  'L 

u 


CAU       Sflkfifttflriflu  8ittinttttti[.        CEL 

CAUSE,  DEFECTIVE. 

A  rotten  cause  abides  no  handling.          H.  IV.  FT.  n.  iv.  1 

I  cannot  fight  upon  this  argument.  2*.  (7.  i.  1. 

CAUTION  (See  also  ADVICE). 

Too  much  trust  hath  damag'd  such 

As  have  believ'd  men  in  their  loves  too  much.  Poems, 

Take  heed  o'  the  foul  fiend !  K.  L.  iii.  4. 

It  is  the  bright  day  that  brings  forth  the  adder, 
And  that  craves  wary  walking.  J.  O.  ii   1. 

Good,  my  lord,  let's  fight  with  gentle  words, 
Till  time  lend  friends,  and  friends  their  helping  swords. 

R.U.  iii,  3. 
Come  not  between  the  dragon  and  his  wrath.        K.  L.  i.  1. 

Hear  you  me,  Jessica  : 

Lock  up  my  doors ;  and  when  you  hear  the  drum, 
And  the  vile  squeaking  of  the  wry-neck' d  fife, 
Clamber  not  you  up  to  the  casement  then, 
Nor  thrust  your  head  into  the  public  street, 
To  gaze  on  Christian  fools  with  varnish'd  faces ; 
But  stop  my  house's  ears  ;  I  mean  my  casements : 
Let  not  the  sound  of  shallow  foppery  enter 
My  sober  house.  M.  V.  ii.  5. 

Think  him  as  a  serpent's  egg, 

Which,  hatch'd,  would,  as  his  kind,  grow  mischievous  ; 
And  kill  him  in  the  shell.  J.C.  ii.  1. 

Let  me  still  take  away  the  harms  I  fear, 

Not  fear  still  to  be  taken.  K.  L.  i.  4, 

How  far  your  eyes  may  pierce  I  cannot  tell, 

Striving  to  better,  oft  we  mar  what's  well.          .  K.  L.  i.  4 

• EXCESSIVE,  OF  THE  AGED. 

But,  beshrew  my  jealousy  1 
It  seems,  it  is  as  proper  to  our  age 
To  cast  beyond  ourselves  in  our  opinions, 
As  it  is  common  for  the  yoimger  sort 
To  lack  discretion.  H.  ii.  1. 

CELEBRITY  (See  also  FAME). 

Thrice-fam'd  beyond  all  erudition.  T.G.  ii.  3, 

CELERITY. 

Celerity  is  never  more  admir'd. 

Then  by  the  negligent.  A.  C.  iii.  7 

The  flighty  purpose  never  is  o'ertook. 
Unless  the  deed  go  with  it.  M.  IT.  1, 

M 


GEN        ?ijabspBarian  Sntianarij.        CEB 

CENSURE  (See  also  OPINION). 

We,  in  the  world's  wide  mouth 

Live  scandaliz'd,  and  foully  spoken  of.       H.  IV.  PT.  i.  i.  2. 
Why,  -who  cries  out  on  pride, 
That  can  therein  tax  any  private  party  1 
Doth  it  not  flow  as  hugely  as  the  sea, 
Till  that  the  weary  very  means  do  ebb  t 
What  woman  in  the  city  do  I  name, 
When  that  I  say,  The  city  woman  bears 
The  cost  of  princes  on  unworthy  shoulders  1 
Who  can  come  in  and  say  that  I  mean  her, 
When  such  a  one  as  she,  such  is  her  neighbour  1 
Or  what  is  he  of  basest  function, 
That  says  his  bravery  is  not  on  my  cost, 
(Thinking  that  I  mean  him,)  but  therein  suits 
His  folly  to  the  mettle  of  my  speech  t 
There,  then  ;  How,  what  then  1     Let  me  see  wherein 
My  tongue  hath  wrong'd  him  ;  if  it  do  him  right, 
Then  he  hath  wrong'd  himself;  if  he  be  free, 
Why  then,  my  taxing  like  a  wild-goose  flies, 
Unclaim'd  of  any  man.  A.  Y.  ii.  7 

CEREMONY  (See  also  REGAL  CEREMONIES). 
Was  but  devis'd  at  first  to  set  a  gloss 
On  faint  deeds,  hollow  welcome" 
Recanting  goodness,  sorry  ?• *  'tis  shown, 
But  where  there  is  true  friendship,  there  needs  none. 

T.  A.  \.  2. 

Rebukable 

And  worthy  shameful  check  it  were  to  stand 
On  more  mechanic  compliment.  A.C.  i?.  4. 

CERES,  INVOCATION  TO. 

Ceres,  most  bounteous  lady,  thy  rich  lees 

Of  wheat,  rye,  barley,  vetches,  oats,  and  pease ; 

Thy  turfy  mountains  where  live  nibbling  sheep, 

And  flat  meads  thatch'd  with  stover,  them  to  keep ; 

Thy  banks  with  peonied  and  lilied  brims, 

Which  spungy  April  at  thy  best  betrims, 

To  make  cold  nymphs,  chaste  crowns ;  and  dark  broom 

groves, 

Whose  shadow  the  dismissed  bachelor  loves, 
Being  lass-lorn ;  thy  pole-clipt  vineyard  ; 
And  thy  sea-marge,  sterile,  and  rocky  hard, 
Where  thou  thyself  dost  air :  The  queen  o'  eky, 
Whose  watery  arch,  and  messenger,  am  I, 
Bids  thee  leave  these ;  and  with  her  sovereign  grace, 
Here,  on  this  grass-plot,  in  this  very  place, 
To  come  and  sport.  T.'iv.  \, 

m 


CBA       Ijjflfospuriflit  iittiniiorij.       CUA 

IJIIALLENGE. 

Here's  the  challenge,  read  it ;  I  warrant  there's  vinegai 
and  pepper  in't.  T.  N.  iii.  4. 

Nay,  answer  me  :  stand,  and  unfold 

Yourself.  H.i.1, 

God  bless  me  from  a  challenge  !  Jf.  A.  v.  1. 

Read  thou  this  challenge  ;  mark  but  the  penning  of  it. 

K.  L.  iv.  6. 

Draw,  you  rogue ;  for  though  it  be  night,  the  moon 
shines.  K.  L.  ii.  2. 

I'll  write  thee  a  challenge ;  or  I'll  deliver  thy  indignation 
by  word  of  mouth.  T.  N.  ii.  4. 

By  gar,  it  is  a  shall enge :  I  vill  cut  his  troat  in  de  park. 

M.W.  i.  4. 

Go,  write  it  in  a  martial  hand ;  be  curst  and  brief;  it  ia 
no  matter  how  witty,  so  it  be  eloquent,  and  full  of  inven- 
tion ;  taunt  him  with  the  license  of  ink.  T.  N.  iii.  2 

I  protest 

Maugre  thy  strength,  youth,  place,  and  eminence, 
Despite  thy  victor  sword,  and  fire-new  fortune, 
Thy  valour,  and  thy  heart, — thou  art  a  traitor : 
False  to  thy  gods,  thy  brother,  and  thy  father  ; 
Conspirant  'gainst  this  high  illustrious  prince ; 
And  from  the  extremest  upward  of  thy  head, 
To  the  descent  and  dust  beneath  thy  feet, 
A  most  toad-spotted  traitor.     Say  thou,  No, 
This  sword,  this  arm,  and  my  best  spirits  are  bent, 
To  prove  upon  thy  heart,  whereto  I  speak, 
Thou  liest.  A'.  /,.  T.  3. 

I  never  in  my  life 

Did  hear  a  challenge  urg'd  more  modestly, 

Unless  a  brother  should  a  brother  dare 

To  gentle  exercise  and  proof  of  arms. 

lie  gave  you  all  the  duties  of  a  man ; 

Triram'd  up  your  praises  with  a  princely  tongue  ; 

Spoke  your  deservmgs  like  a  chronicle  ; 

Making  you  ever  better  than  his  praise, 

By  still  dispraising  praise,  valued  with  you : 

And,  which  became  him  like  a  prince  indeed, 

He  made  a  blushing  cital  of  himself; 

And  chid  his  truant  youth  with  such  a  grace, 

As  if  he  master'd  there  a  double  spirit, 

Of  teaching  and  of  learning  instantly.         H.  IV,  PI.  :.  ».  2 

CHAMPION. 

Like  a  bold  champion,  I  assume  the  liste. 


CUA       jHjflkBaparian  iiriinnan;.       CEA 


C  II  AMPION,—  continued. 

Nor  ask  advice  of  any  other  thought 

But  faithfulness  and  courage.  P.  P.  i.  1 

CHANCE  (See  also  FORTUNE). 

Full  oft  'tis  seen, 

Our  mean  secures  us  ;  and  our  mere  defects 
Prove  our  commodities.  K.  L.  iv.  1. 

CHANGE. 

Why,  here's  a  change  indeed  in  the  commonwealth  ! 

M.  M.  i.  2. 
And  art  thou  come  to  this  ?  K.  L.  iii.  4 


-,  THE  NECESSITY  OF. 


If  all  the  year  were  playing  holidays, 

To  sport  would  be  as  tedious  as  to  work  ; 

But  when  they  seldom  come,  they  wish'd-for  come, 

And  nothing  pleaseth  but  rare  accidents.     H.  IV.  PT.  i.  i.  2. 

CHANGELING. 

His  humour 

Was  nothing  but  mutation ;  Ay  and  that 
From  one  bad  thing  to  worse.  Gym.  iv.  2. 

CHARITY. 

My  learn'd  lord  cardinal, 
Deliver  all  with  charity.  H.  FZZ7.  i.  2 

For  he  is  gracious  if  he  be  observed  ; 

He  hath  a  tear  for  pity,  and  a  hand 

Open  as  day  for  melting  charity.  H.  IF.  PT.  n.  iv.  4 

CHARM. 

For  a  charm  of  powerful  trouble 

Like  a  hell-broth  boil  and  bubble.  M.  iv.  1 

Then  I  beat  my  tabor, 

At  which,  like  unback'd  colts,  they  prick'd  their  ears, 
Advanc'd  their  eyelids,  lifted  up  their  noses, 
As  they  smelt  music  ;  so  I  charm'd  their  ears, 
That,  calf-like,  they  my  lowing  follow'd  through 
Tooth'd  briars,  sharp  furzes,  pricking  goss,  and  thorns, 
Which  enter'd  their  frail  shins  :  at  last  I  left  them 
I'the  filthy  mantled  pool  beyond  your  cell.  T.  iv.  1 

•  DISSOLVING. 

The  charm  dissolves  apace ; 
And  as  the  morning  steals  upon  the  night, 
Melting  the  darkness,  so  their  rising  senses 
Begin  to  chase  the  ignorant  fumes  that  mantle 
Their  clearer  reason.  T.  v.  1 


CHA      f  )ik*fitiriix  iirttnttflnj.       CHI 

HASTITY. 

Chaste  as  the  icicle, 

That's  curded  by  the  frost  from  purest  snow, 
And  hangs  on  Dian's  temple.  C.  v.  3, 

Of  chastity,  the  ornaments  are  chaste.  Poemt, 

She'll  not  be  hit 

With  Cupid's  arrow ;  she  hath  Dian's  wit ; 
And,  in  strong  proof  of  chastity  well  arm'd, 
From  love's  weak  childish  bow  she  lives  unharm'd. 

R.  7.  i.  1. 

I  thought  her 

As  chaste  as  unsunn'd  snow.  Gym.  ii.  6. 

She  will  not  stay  the  siege  of  loving  terms, 
Nor  'bide  th'  encounter  of  assailing  eyes, 
Nor  ope  her  lap  to  saint-seducing  gold.  R.  J.  i.  1. 

CHEATS  (See  also  KNAVES). 

They  say,  this  town  is  full  of  cozenage  ; 

As,  nimble  jugglers,  that  deceive  the  eye, 

Dark-working  sorcerers,  that  change  the  mind, 

Soul-killing  witches,  that  deform  the  body  ; 

Disguised  cheaters,  prating  mountebanks, 

And  many  such  like  libertines  of  sin.  C.  JS.  i.  2. 

CHECK. 

I  see  this  hath  a  little  dash'd  your  spirits.  0.  iu  & 

CHEERFULNESS. 

Why  should  a  man  whose  blood  is  warm  within, 

Sit  like  his  grandsire  cut  in  alabaster? 

Sleep  when  he  wakes,  and  creep  into  the  jaundice 

By  being  peevish.  M.  V.  i.  1, 

CHIDING. 

But  I'll  not  chide  thee  ; 

Let  shame  come  when  it  will,  I  do  not  call  it : 
I  do  not  bid  the  thunder-bearer  shoot, 
Nor  tell  tales  of  thee  to  high-judging  Jove  : 
Mend,  when  thou  can'st ;  be  better  at  thy  leisure : 
I  can  be  patient.  K.  L.  ii.  4. 

O,  what  a  beast  was  I  to  chide  him  I  R.  J.  iii.  2. 

CHILDREN,  UNDUTIFUL  (See  also  FILIAL  INGRATITUDE). 
I  shall  see 
The  winged  vengeance  overtake  such  children.  K.  L.  iii.  7. 

CHIVALRY. 

Now  thou  art  seal'd  the  son  of  chivalry.    H.  VI.  PT.  i.  iv.  6, 

In  this  glorious  and  well  foughten  field, 
We  kept  together  in  our  chivalry.  H.  V.  IT.  ft 

4* 


CHI        lljafospmhn  iirtinnanj.        CIR 

CHIVALRY,— continued. 

I  am  to  day  i'  the  vein  of  chivalry.  T.  O.  v.  3. 

For  my  part,  I  may  speak  it  to  my  shame, 

I  have  a  truant  been  to  chivalry.  H.  IV.  PT.  i.  v.  1, 

CHOICE. 

There's  a  small  choice  in  rotten  apples.  T.  S.  i.  1. 

CHRISTENING. 

You  must  be  seeing  christenings  I     Do  you  look  for  ale 
and  cakes  here,  ysu  rude  rascals  I  H.  VIII.  v.  3. 

CHRISTIAN  WARS. 

I  always  thought, 
It  was  both  impious  and  unnatural, 
That  such  immanity  and  bloody  strife 
Should  reign  among  professors  of  one  faith. 

H.  VI.  FT.  I.  V.  1. 

CHURCHMEN. 

Who  should  be  pitiful  if  you  be  not  ? 
Or  who  should  study  to  prefer  a  peace, 
If  holy  churchmen  take  delight  in  broils  ? 

H.VI.  FT.  i.  iii.  1. 
Love  and  meekness,  lord, 
Become  a  churchman  better  than  ambition  ; 
Win  straying  souls  with  modesty  again, 
Cast  none  away.  H.  VIII.  v.  2. 

I  am  of  the  church,  and  will  be  glad  to  do  my  benevo- 
lence, to  make  atonements  and  compromises  between  you 

M.W.\.  ) 

If  we  did  think 

His  contemplations  were  above  the  earth, 

And  fix'd  on  spiritual  objects,  he  should  still 

Dwell  in  his  musings :  but  I  am  afraid, 

His  thinkings  are  below  the  moon,  not  worth 

His  serious  considering.  H.  VIII.  iii.  2. 

CHURCH  MILITANT. 

i  What !  the  sword  and  the  word !   do  you  study  them 

both,  master  parson  ?  M.  W.  iii.  1. 

CHURLISHNESS. 

My  master  is  of  churlish  disposition, 

And  little  recks  to  find  the  way  to  heaven, 

By  doing  deeds  of  hospitality.  A.  T.  ii.  4. 

CIRCUMLOCUTION. 

Thou  shalt  never  get  such  B  secret  from  me,  but  by  a 
parabU.  T.  0.  ii.  5. 

40  t 


OIK        lljnkrsjimintt  iirtiniinnj.        CLO 

CIRCUMSPECTION. 

Wear  your  eye, — thus,  not  jealous  nor  secure: 
I  would  not  have  your  free  and  noble  nature, 
Out  of  self  bounty,  be  abus'd ;  look  to't.  O.  iii.  3. 

Lav  thy  finger,— thus,  and  let  thy  soul  be  instructed. 

0.  ii.  1, 

CLAIM,  ANTIQUATED. 

'Tis  no  sinister,  nor  no  aukward  claim, 

Pick'd  from  the  worm-holes  of  long  vanish'd  days, 

Nor  from  the  dust  of  old  oblivion  rak'd.  H.  V.  ii.  4. 

CLEOPATRA,  SAILING. 

The  barge  she  sat  in,  like  a  burnish'd  throne, 

Burn'd  on  the  water :  the  poop  was  beaten  gold  ; 

Purple  the  sails,  and  so  perfumed,  that 

The  winds  were  love-sick  with  them  :  the  oars  were  silver  5 

Which  to  the  tune  of  flutes  kept  stroke,  and  made 

The  water,  which  they  beat,  to  follow  faster, 

As  amorous  of  their  strokes.     For  her  own  person, 

It  beggar'd  all  description :  she  did  lie 

In  her  pavilion  (cloth  of  gold  of  tissue) 

O'er-picturing  that  Venus,  where  we  see, 

The  fancy  out- work  nature  ;  on  each  side  her, 

Stood  pretty  dimpled  boys,  like  smiling  Cupids, 

With  diverse-colour' d  fans,  whose  wind  did  seem 

To  glow  the  delicate  cheeks  which  they  did  cool ; — 

And  what  they  undid,  did. 

Her  gentlewomen,  like  the  Nereides, 

So  many  mermaids,  tended  her  i'  the  eyes, 

And  made  their  bends  adornings  :  at  the  helm, 

A  seeming  mermaid  steers ;  the  silken  tackle 

Swell  with  the  touches  of  those  flower-soft  hands, 

That  yarely  frame  the  office.     From  the  barge, 

A  strange  invisible  perfume  hits  the  sense 

Of  the  adjacent  wharfs.  A. C.  ii.  2 

CLERICAL  FUNCTION. 

The  very  opener  and  intelligencer, 

Between  the  grace,  the  sanctities  of  heaven, 

And  our  dull  workings.  IV.  PT.  n.  iv.  '<J. 

CLOUDS. 

That,  which  is  now  a  horse,  even  with  a  thought, 

The  rack  dislimns  ;  and  makes  it  indistinct, 

As  water  is  in  water.  A.  O.  n.  12 

Sometimes  we  see  a  cloud  that's  dragonish  ; 
A  vapour,  sometimes,  like  a  bear,  or  lion, 
A  tower'd  citadel,  a  pendant  rock, 

M 


CLO        SjiflRusjininnii  iiriinnanj.       COM 


CLOUDS,  —continued. 

A  forked  mountain,  or  blue  pro  nontory, 

"With  trees  upon't,  that  nud  unto  the  world, 

And  mock  our  eyes  with  air  :  Thou  hast  seen  these  signs 

They  are  black  vesper's  pageants.  A.  C.  iv.  12. 

CLOWN. 

A  clod  of  wayward  marie.  M.  A.  ii.  1. 

It  is  meat  and  drink  to  me  to  see  a  clown.  A.Y.  v.  1. 

COAST  AT  SUN-RISE. 

Even  till  the  eastern  gate,  all  fiery  red, 
Opening  on  Neptune  with  fair  blessed  beams 
Turns  into  yellow  gold  his  salt-green  streams.    M.  N.  iii.  2. 

COCK,  CROWING. 

I  have  heard, 

The  cock,  that  is  the  trumpet  of  the  morn, 
Doth  with  his  lofty  and  shrill-sounding  throat 
Awake  the  god  of  day;  and,  at  his  warning, 
Whether  in  sea,  or  fire,  in  earth,  or  air, 
The  extravagant  and  erring  spirit  hies 
To  his  confine.  H.  i.  1. 

COCKATRICES. 

This  will  so  fright  them  both,  that  they  will  kill  one 
another  by  the  look,  like  cockatrices.  T.N.  iii.  4. 

COLDNESS  (See  also  FRIGIDITY). 

Tut,  tut,  thou  art  all  ice  ;  thy  kindness  freezes. 

R.  III.  iv.  2. 

COLLECTOR. 

A  snapper  up  of  unconsidered  trifles.  W.  T.  iv.  2. 

And  in  his  brain, 

Which  is  as  dry  as  the  remainder  biscuit 
After  a  voyage,  —  he  hath  strange  places  cramm'd 
With  observation,  the  which  he  vents 
In  mangled  forms.  A.Y.  ii.  7. 

Every  lane's  end,  every  shop,  church,  session,  hanging, 
yields  a  careful  man  work.  W.  T.  iv.  3. 

A  poor  humour  of  mine,  Sir,  to  take  that  that  no  man 
else  will.  A.Y.  v.  4. 

COMBAT. 

Now  they  are  clapper-clawing  one  another,  I'll  go  look  on 

T.C.v.4 

COMFORT. 

Thoughts  tending  to  content,  flatter  themselves,  — 
That  they  are  not  the  first  of  fortune's  slave*, 


COM       iijafospmian  iidioitartj.       COM 

COMFORT,— continued. 

Nor  shall  not  be  the  last ;  lik«  silly  beggars, 
Who,  sitting  in  the  stocks,  refuge  their  shame, — 
That  many  have,  and  others  must  sit  there, 
And  in  this  thought  they  find  a  kind  of  ease, 
Bearing  their  own  misfortunes  on  the  back 
Of  such  as  have  before  endur'd  the  like.  R.  II.  v.  5, 

How  mightily,  sometimes,  we  make  us  comforts  of  our  losses. 

A.  W.  iv.  3 

COMMODITY. 

Commodity,  the  bias  of  the  world  ; 

The  world,  who  of  itself  is  poised  well, 

Made  to  run  even  upon  even  ground  ; 

Till  this  advantage,  this  vile  drawing  bias, 

This  sway  of  motion,  this  commodity, 

Makes  it  take  head  from  all  indifferency, 

From  all  direction,  purpose,  course,  intent : 

And  this  same  bias,  this  commodity, 

This  bawd,  this  broker,  this  all-changing  word, 

Clapp'd  on  the  outward  eye  of  fickle  France, 

Hath  drawn  him  from  his  own  determin'd  aid, 

From  a  resolv'd  and  honourable  war, 

To  a  most  b*se  and  vile  concluded  peace.  K.  J.  11.  2. 

COMMOTION  (See  also  MOB). 

The  times  are  wild  ;  contention,  like  a  horse 

Full  of  high  feeding,  madly  hath  broke  loose, 

And  bears  down  all  before  him.  H.  IV.  PT.  n.  i    L 

You  have  made  good  work, 

You  and  your  apron  men  ;  you  that  stood  so  much 

Upon  the  voice  of  occupation,  and 

The  breath  of  garlic-eaters.  C.  iv.  6, 

COMPACT. 

A  seal'd  compact, 

Well  ratified  by  law  and  heraldry.  H.  i.  1 

COMPANIONS,  JUVENILE. 

We  were  as  twinn'd  lambs  that  did  frisk  i'  the  sun, 

And  bleat  the  one  at  the  other :  what  we  chang'd 

Was  innocence  for  innocence  ;  we  knew  not 

The  doctrine  of  ill-doing,  no,  nor  dream'd 

That  any  did.  W.T.  i.  2 

COMPANY. 

It  is  certain,  that  either  wise  bearing,  or  ignorant  car- 
riage is  caught  as  men  take  diseases,  one  of  another ; 
therefore,  let  men  take  heed  of  their  company. 

H.  IV.  pr.  11.  v.  1. 

There  is  a  thing,  Harry,  which  thou  hast  often  hoard  of, 
M 


COM       $ljfllttBji?annn  fHrtiunan|.        CON 

COMPANY,— contim^d. 

and  it  is  known  to  many  In  our  land  by  the  name  of  pitch : 
this  pitch,  as  ancient  writers  do  report,  doth  defile ;  so  doth 
the  company  thou  keepeat.  H.  IV.  PT.  i.  ii.  4. 

Well,  heaven  send  the  prir.ce  a  better  companion. 

H.  IV.  PT.  ii.  i.  2. 

COMPASSION. 

Had  he  been  slaughter-man  to  all  my  kin, 

I  should  not  for  my  life  but  weep  with  him, 

To  see  how  inly  sorrow  gripes  his  soul.     H.  VI.  PT.  in.  i.  4 

COMPENDIUM. 

There  are  some  shrewd  contents  in  yon'  same  paper. 

M.V.  iii.  2. 

COMPLAINT. 

0,  that  I  were 

Upon  the  hill  of  Basan,  to  outroar 

The  horned  herdl  for  I  have  savage  cause  ; 

And  to  proclaim  it  civilly,  were  like 

A  halter'd  neck,  which  does  the  hangman  thank 

For  being  yare  about  him.  A.C.  iii.  11. 

COMPLIMENT. 

'Twas  never  merry  world 
Since  lowly  feigning  was  call'd  compliment.       T.  N.  iii.  1. 

COMPUNCTION  (See  also  REMORSE). 

Art  thou  afeard 

To  be  the  same  in  thine  own  act  and  valour, 
As  thou  art  in  desire  ?    Would'st  thou  have  that 
Which  thou  esteem'st  the  ornament  of  life, 
And  live  a  coward  in  thine  own  esteem  ; 
Letting  I  dare  not,  wait  upon  I  would, 
Like  the  poor  cat  i'  the  adage  ?  M.  i.  7, 

We  will  proceed  no  further  in  this  business: 
He  hath  honour'd  me  of  late,  and  I  have  bought 
Golden  opinions  of  all  sorts  of  people.  M.  i.  7. 

.  But  wherefore  could  I  not  pronounce,  Amen  ? 
I  had  most  need  of  blessing,  and  Amen 
Stuck  in  my  throat.  M.  ii.  2. 

COMRADE. 

Friend  and  companion  in  the  front  of  war.  A.C.  v.  1 

CONCEIT. 

So  sensible 

Seemeth  their  conference,  their  conceits  have  wings 
Fleeter  than  arrows,  bullets,  wind,  thought,  swifter  thing* 

L.  L.  v,  2. 
u  •• 


CON        Ijiclttspflriaii  F'irtintuinj         con 

CONCEIT,— continued. 

Conceit  in  weakest  bodies  strongest  works.  H.  iii.  4. 

CONCLUSION. 

Indeed,  without  an  oath,  I'll  make  an  end  on't.       //.  IT.  5 

FALSE. 

0  most  lame  and  impotent  conclusion  !  0.  ii.  1. 

But  then  there  is  no  consonancy  in  the  sequel.     T.  N  ii.  5. 

CONDESCENSION. 

I  extend  my  hand  to  him  thus,  quenching  my  familiar 
smile  with  an  austere  regard  of  controul.  T.  N.  ii.  5. 

CONFERENCE,  LEARNED. 

I'll  talk  a  word  with  this  same  learned  Theban. 

K.L.  iii  4. 

CONFIDENCE. 

As  gentle  and  as  jocund  as  to  jest, 

Go  I  to  fight :  Truth  has  a  quiet  breast.  R.  II.  i.  3. 

UNWARRANTED. 

Is  not  this  a  strange  fellow,  my  lord  ?  that  so  confidently 
seems  to  undertake  this  business,  which  he  knows  is  not  to 
be  done ;  damns  himself  to  do,  and  dares  better  be  damn'd 
than  to  do  it.  A.  W.  iii.  6 

CONJUROR. 

They  brought  one  Punch :  a  hungry  lean-fac'd  villain, 

A  mere  anatomy,  a  mountebank, 

A  thread-bare  juggler,  a  fortune-teller  ; 

A  needy,  hollow-ey'd,  sharp-looking  wretch, 

A  living  dead  man  :  this  pernicious  slave, 

Forsooth,  took  on  him  as  a  conjuror ; 

And,  gazing  in  mine  eyes,  feeling  my  pulse, 

And  with  no  face,  as  'twere,  out-facing  me, 

Cried  out,  I  was  possess'd.  C.  E.  v.  1 

CONNEXIONS. 

Why,  this  is  to  have  a  name  in  great  men's  fellowship. 

A.  C.  if.  7 

CONQUEROR  (See  also  WAR). 

Before  him 

He  carries  noise,  and  behind  him  he  leaves  tears.     C.  ii.  1 
A  conqueror  and  afear'd  to  speak !  L.  L.  v.  2. 

OONQUEST. 

Truly  to  speak,  Sir,  and  with  no  addition, 
We  go  to  gain  a  little  patch  of  ground, 
That  hath  in  it  n-»  profit  but  the  name.  Jff.  jy.  4 

M 


CON        iljafosjuarian  fhtliifttf,        CON 

CONSCIENCE  (See  also  SUICIDE). 

I'll  teach  you  how  you  shall  arraign  your  conscience. 

And  try  your  penitence,  if  it  be  sound, 

Or  hollowly  put  on.  M.  M.  \\.  3 

Go  to  your  bosom ; 
Knock  there :  and  ask  your  heart  what  it  doth  know. 

M.  M.  ii.  2 

Who  has  a  breast  so  pure, 
But  some  uncleanly  apprehensions 
Keep  leets  and  law-days,  and  in  sessions  sit 
With  meditations  lawful  ?  0.  iii.  3. 

What  stronger  breast-plate  than  a  heart  untainted  ? 
Thrice  is  he  arm'd  that  hath  his  quarrel  just ; 
And  he  but  naked  though  locked  up  in  steel, 
Whose  conscience  with  injustice  is  corrupted. 

H.  VI.  FT.  ii.  iii.  2. 
I  feel  within  me 

A  peace  above  all  earthly  dignities, 
A  still  and  quiet  conscience.  H.  VTLI.  iii.  2 

You  shall  see,  anon ;  'tis  a  knavish  piece  of  work  ;  but 
what  of  that  ?  Your  majesty,  and  we  that  have  free  souls, 
it  touches  us  not :  Let  the  gall'd  jade  wince,  our  withers 
are  unwrung.  H.  iii.  2. 

Why,  let  the  stricken  deer  go  weep, 

The  hart  ungalled  play  ; 
For  some  must  watch,  while  some  must  sleep  ; 

Thus  runs  the  world  away.  H.  iii.  2. 

I'll  observe  his  looks  ; 
I'll  tent  him  to  the  quick ;  if  he  do  blench, 
I  know  my  course.  H.  ii.  2. 

I'll  not  meddle  with  it,  it  is  a  dangerous  thing,  it  makes 
a  man  a  coward ;  a  man  cannot  steal,  but  it  accuseth  him ; 
a  man  cannot  swear,  but  it  checks  him ;  a  man  cannot  lie 
with  a  neighbour's  wife,  but  it  detects  him  :  'Tis  a  blushing 
shame-fac'd  spirit,  that  mutinies  in  a  man's  bosom  ;  it  fills 
one  full  of  obstacles :  it  made  me  once  restore  a  purse  of 
gold,  that  by  chance  I  found  ;  it  beggars  any  man  that 
keeps  it ;  it  is  turned  out  of  all  towns  and  cities  for  a  dan- 
gerous thing.  R.  III.  i.  4. 

GUILTY. 


J- 


My  conscience  hath  a  thousand  several  tongues, 

And  every  tongue  brings  in  a  several  tale  ; 

And  every  tale  condemns  me  for  a  villain.          R.  III.  v.  3. 

How  is't  with  me  when  every  noise  appals  me  ?       M.  ii.  2. 


SON        ^jjnkrsjirarinn  Hirtionnrtf.        CON 

CONSCIENCE,  GUILTY,— continued. 

Suspicion  always  haunts  the  guilty  mind  ; 
The  thief  doth  fear  each  bush  an  officer. 

H.  VI.  FT.  in.  v.  6 

How  smart 
A  lash  that  speech  doth  give  my  conscience  !  H.  iii.  i, 

Thou  turn'st  mine  eyes  into  my  very  soul ; 

Ami  there  I  Bee  such  black  and  grained  spots 

As  will  not  leave  their  tinct.  //.  iii   4 

Methought  the  billows  spoke  and  told  me  of  it ; 
.  The  winds  did  sing  it  to  me ;  and  the  thunder, 
That  deep  and  dreadful  organ-pipe,  pronounc'd 
The  name  of  Prosper  ;  it  did  bass  my  trespass, 
Therefore  my  son  i'  th'  ooze  is  bedded.  T.  ii.  2. 

Soft ;  I  did  but  dream, 
0,  coward  conscience,  how  dost  thou  affright  me  1 

R.  HI.  v.  3, 

With  clog  of  conscience  and  sour  melancholy.     R.  II.  v.  6 

Not  so  sick,  my  lord, 

As  she  is  troubled  with  thick-coming  fancies, 

That  keep  her  from  her  rest.  M.  v.  3 

Canst  thou  not  minister  to  a  mind  diseas'd  ; 

Pluck  from  the  memory  a  rooted  sorrow ; 

Raze  out  the  written  troubles  of  the  brain  ; 

And  with  some  sweet  oblivious  antidote, 

Cleanse  the  foul  bosom  of  that  perilous  stuff, 

Which  weighs  upon  the  heart  ?  M.  v  3 

SEARED. 

If  it  were  a  kybe, 

'Twould  put  me  to  my  slipper  ;  but  I  feel  not 
This  deity  in  my  bosom :  twenty  consciences, 
That  stand  'twixt  me  and  Milan,  candied  be  they, 
And  melt,  ere  they  molest.  T.  ii.  1 

Let  not  our  babbling  dren^q  affright  our  souls ; 
Conscience  is  but  a  v     '  t'..it  cowards  use, 
Devis'd  at  first,  to  koc^  u.c  strong  in  awe.          R.  III.  v.  3 

CONSPIRACY. 

While  you  here  do  snoring  lie 
Open-ey'd  conspiracy 

His  time  doth  take  : 
If  of  life  you  keep  a  care. 
Shake  off  slumber,  and  beware : 

Awake  !     Awake  1  T.  ii.  2 

M 


CON       fjfiiiffiitifti  ®irtinnart(.       CON 

CONSPIRACY,— continued. 

0  conspiracy ! 

Sham'st  thou  to  show  thy  dangerous  brow  by  night, 
When  ex  Us  are  most  free  ?  0,  then,  by  day, 
Where  wilt  thou  find  a  cavern  dark  enough 
To  mask  thy  monstrous  visage  ?     Seek  none,  conspiracy, 
Hide  it  in  smiles  and  affability : 
For  if  thou  path  thy  native  semblance  on, 
Not  Erebus  itself  were  dim  enough 
To  hide  thee  from  prevention.  /.  C.  ii.  1 


POPULAR. 


Tt  is  a  purpos'd  thing,  and  grows  by  plot, 

To  curb  the  will  of  the  nobility : — 

Suffer  it,  and  live  with  such  as  cannot  rule 

And  never  will  be  ruPd.  C.  iii.  1 

CONSTANCY  (See  also  FIDELITY). 

The  fineness  of  which  metal  is  not  found 

In  fortune's  love  ;  for  then,  the  bold  and  coward, 

The  wise  and  fool,  the  artist  and  unread, 

The  hard  and  soft,  seem  all  affin'd  and  kin  ; 

But  in  the  wind  and  tempest  of  her  frown, 

Distinction,  with  a  broad  and  powerful  fan, 

Puffing  at  all,  winnows  the  light  away  ; 

And  what  hath  mass,  or  matter,  by  itself 

Lies,  rich  in  virtue,  and  unmingled.  T.C.  i.  Jk 

Master,  go  on ;  and  I  will  follow  thee, 

To  the  last  gasp,  with  truth  and  loyalty.  A.  T.  ii.  3 

Time,  force,  and  death, 

Do  to  this  body  what  extremes  you  can  ; 

But  the  strong  base  and  building  of  my  love 

Is  as  the  very  centre  of  the  earth, 

Drawing  all  things  to  it.  T.  C.  iv.  2, 

Now  from  head  to  foot, 

I  am  marble  constant ;  now  the  fleeting  moon 

No  planet  is  of  mine.  A.  C.  v.  2 

•    But  I  am  constant  as  the  northern  star, 

Of  whose  true  fix'd,  and  vesting  quality, 

There  is  no  fellow  in  the  firmament.  J.C  iii.  I 

CONJUGAL. 

Here  I  kneel. — 

If  e'er  my  wish  did  trespass  'gainst  his  love, 

Either  in  discourse,  in  thought,  or  actual  deed  ; 

Or  that  mine  eyes,  mine  ears,  or  any  sense, 

Delighted  them  in  any  other  form  ; 

Or  that  I  do  not  yet,  and  ever  did, 

And  ever  will, — though  he  do  shake  me  off 

m 


CON       f  jfifciiyittisi  Sutiouarf.        cos 

CONSTANCY,  CONJUGAL,— continued. 

To  beggarly  divorcement, — love  him  dearly, 

Comfort  forswear  me !     Unkindness  may  do  much  ; 

And  his  unkindness  may  defeat  my  life, 

But  never  taint  my  love.  O.  iv.  2 

He  counsels  a  divorce :  a  loss  of  her, 

That,  like  a  jewel,  has  hung  twenty  years 

About  his  neck,  yet  never  lost  her  lustre ; 

Of  her,  that  loves  him  with  that  excellence 

That  angels  love  good  men  with ;  even  of  her, 

That  when  the  greatest  stroke  of  fortune  falls, 

Will  bless  the  king.  H.  VIII.  ii.  2. 

Sir,  call  to  mind, 

That  I  have  been  your  wife  in  this  obedience, 
Upward  of  twenty  years,  and  have  been  bless'd 
With  many  children  by  you.     If,  in  the  course 
And  process  of  this  time,  you  can  report, 
And  prove  it  too,  against  mine  honour  aught, 
My  bond  to  wedlock,  or  my  love  and  duty, 
Against  your  sacred  person,  in  God's  name, 
Turn  mo  away  ;  and  let  the  foul'st  contempt 
Shut  door  upon  me,  and  so  give  me  up 
To  the  sharpest  kind  of  justice.  H.  VIII.  ii.  ii 

0  bid  me  leap,  rather  than  marry  Paris, 

From  off  the  battlements  of  yonder  tower ; 

Or  walk  in  thievish  ways  ;  or  bid  me  lurk 

Where  serpents  are  ;  chain  me  with  roaring  bears ; 

Or  shut  me  nightly  in  a  charnel  house, 

O'er-cover'd  quite  with  dead  men's  rattling  bones, 

With  reeky  shanks,  and  yellow  chapless  skulls ; 

Or  bid  me  go  into  a  new  made  grave, 

And  hide  me  with  a  dead  man  in  his  shroud ; 

Things  that,  to  hear  them  told,  have  made  me  tremble  ; 

And  I  will  do  it  without  fear  or  doubt, 

To  live  an  unstain'd  wife  to  my  sweet  love.  R.  J.  iv.  1 

CONSTERNATION. 

Behold,  destruction,  frenzy,  ana  amazement, 

Like  witless  antics,  one  another  meet.  T.  C.  v.  3 

CONSULTATION. 

Now  sit  wo  close  about  the  taper  here, 

And  call  in  question  our  necessities.  /.  C-  iv.  3, 

CONSUMMATION. 

When  the  hurly-burly's  done, 
When  the  battle's  lost  and  won.  M.  i.  1 

M 


CON       Ijjnbsjiminii  Dirtinuanj.        coo 

CONTEMPLATION. 

Contemplation  makes  a  rare  turkey-cock  of  him ;  how  he  jets 
under  his  advanced  plumes  I  T.  N.  ii.  5. 

CONTEMPTIBLE. 

Put  on  him  what  forgeries  you  please ;  marry,  none  so  rank 
As  may  dishonour  him.  H.  ii.  1. 

CONTENT  (See  also  MODERATION). 
Our  content 
Is  our  best  having.  H.  VIII.  ii.  3. 

Verily, 

I  swear  'tis  better  to  be  lowly  born, 
And  range  with  humble  livers  in  content, 
Than  to  be  perk'd  up  in  a  glistering  grief, 
And  wear  a  golden  sorrow.  H.  VIIL  ii.  3. 

My  crown  is  in  my  heart,  not  on  my  head ; 
Not  deck'd  with  diamonds  and  Indian  stones, 
Nor  to  be  seen  ;  my  erown  is  call'd  content ; 
A  crown  it  is  that  seldom  kings  enjoy.     H.  VI.  PT.  HI.  iii.  1 

Willing  misery 

Outlives  incertain  pomp,  is  crown'd  before: 
The  one  is  filling  still,  never  complete ; 
The  other,  at  high  wish.  T.  A.  iv.  3. 

CONTENTION. 

I  pr'ythee  take  thy  fingers  from  my  throat ; 

For  though  I  am  not  splenetive  and  rash, 

Yet  have  I  in  me  something  dangerous, 

Which  let  thy  wisdom  fear.  H.  v.  1. 

CONVERSATION. 

These  high  wild  hills  and  rough  uneven  ways, 
Draw  out  our  miles  and  make  them  wearisome ; 
And  yet  your  fair  discourse  hath  been  as  sugar, 
Making  the  hard  way  sweet  and  delectable.          R.II.  ii.  3. 
I  praise  God  for  you,  Sir ;  your  reasons  at  dinner,  havo 
been  sharp  and  sententious  ;   pleasant  without  scurrility, 
witty  without    affectation,  audacious  without  impudency, 
learned  without  opinion,  and  strange  without  heresy. 

L.L.v.  i. 

COOKERY. 

But  his  neat  cookery  !     He  cut  our  roots  in  characters ; 

And  sauc'd  our  broths  as  Juno  had  been  sick, 

And  he  her  dieter.  Cym.  iv.  2. 

COOLING. 

And  in  the  height  of  this  bath,  when  I  was  more  than 
ha.lf  stew'd  in  grease,  like  a  Dutch  dish,  to  be  thrown  into 


coo        £ jjakrsprnrinn  iirtinnctij.       COT 

COOLING,— continued. 

the  Thames,  and  cooled  glowing  hot,  in  that  surge,  like  a 
horse-shoe,  think  of  that ;— hissing  hot ; — think  of  that, 
Master  Brook.  M.  W.  iii.  5 

CORINTHIAN. 

A  Corinthian,  a  lad  of  mettle.  H.IV.  PT.  i.  ii,  4 

OORIOLANUS. 

Thou  art  left,  Marcius : 

A  carbuncle  entire,  as  big  as  thou  art, 

Were  not  so  rich  a  jewel.     Thou  wast  a  soldier 

Even  to  Cato's  wish,  not  fierce  and  terrible 

Only  in  strokes  ;  but,  with  thy  grim  looks,  and 

The  thunder-like  percussion  of  thy  sounds, 

Thou  mad'st  thine  enemies  shake,  as  if  the  world 

Were  feverous  and  did  tremble.  6'.  i.  4. 

His  nature  is  too  noble  for  the  world : 

He  would  not  flatter  Neptune  for  his  trident, 

Or 'Jove  for  his  power  to  thunder.     His  heart's  his  mouth  : 

What  his  breast  forges,  that  his  tongue  must  vent ; 

And,  being  angry,  does  forget  that  ever 

He  heard  the  name  of  death.  C.  iii.  i. 

CORRECTION. 

Your  purpos'd  low  correction, 
Is  such,  as  basest  and  contemned'st  wretches, 
For  pilferings  and  most  common  trespasses, 
Are  punished  with.  K.  L.  ii.  2. 

My  masters  of  St.  Alban's,  have  you  not  beadles  in  yotn 
town,  and  things  called  whips  ?  H.  VI.  PT.  ii.  ii.  1. 

DIFFICULTIES  OF. 

For  full  well  he  knows, 
He  cannot  so  precisely  weed  this  land, 
As  his  misdoubts  present  occasion ; 
His  foes  are  so  enrooted  with  his  friends, 
That,  plucking  to  unfix  an  enemy, 
He  doth  unfasten  so,  and  shake  a  friend. 
So  that  this  land,  like  an  offensive  wife, 
That  hath  enrag'd  him  on  to  offer  strokes, 
As  he  is  striking,  holds  his  infant  up, 
And  hangs  resolv'd  correction  in  the  arm 
That  was  uprear'd  to  execution.  H,  IV.  PT.  11.  iv.  1 

COVETOUSNESS. 

Those  that  much  are  of  gain  so  fond, 

That  oft  they  have  not  that  which  they  possess  \ 
They  scatter  and  unloose  it  from  their  bond, 

And  so,  by  hoping  more,  they  have  but  less. 


cou       lijnkrsprnrinn  SitttDDurij.       cot 

COUNSEL. 

Is  this  your  Christian  counsel  ?  out  upon  ye  1 

Heaven  is  above  all  yet ;  there  sits  a  judge, 

That  no  king  can  corrupt  H.VIIL  iii.  L 

COUNTENANCE,  BENIGN. 

Her  face,  the  book  of  praises,  where  is  read 

Nothing  but  curious  pleasures,  as  from  thence 

Sorrow  were  ever  raz'd,  and  testy  wrath 

Could  never  be  her  mild  companion.  P.P.  i.  1. 

HOURAGE  (See  also  VALOUR). 

Pr'ythee  peace ; 

I  dare  do  all  that  may  become  a  man  ; 
Who  dares  do  more,  is  none.  M.  i.  7. 

Things  out  of  hope  are  compass't  oft  with  venturing.   Poems. 

Wise  men  ne'er  sit  and  wail  their  loss, 
But  cheerly  seek  how  to  redress  their  harms. 
What  though  the  mast  be  now  blown  overboard, 
The  cable  broke,  the  holding  anchor  lost, 
And  half  our  sailors  swallow'd  in  the  flood  ? 
Yet  lives  our  pilot  still :  Is't  meet  that  he 
Should  leave  the  helm,  and  like  a  fearful  lad, 
With  tearful  eyes  add  water  to  the  sea, 
And  give  more  strength  to  that  which  hath  too  much ; 
Whiles,  in  his  moan,  the  ship  splits  on  the  rock, 
Which  industry  and  courage  might  have  savM? 

KVLrr.  in.  T.  4. 

By  how  much  unexpected,  by  so  much 
We  must  awake  endeavour  for  defence  ; 
For  courage  mounteth  with  occasion.  K.J.  ii.  L 

For  this  last, 

Before  and  in  Corioli,  let  me  say, 
I  cannot  speak  him  home  ;  he  stopp'd  the  fliers  ; 
And  by  his  rare  example,  make  the  coward 
Turn  terror  into  sport :  as  waves  before 
A  vessel  under  sail,  so  men  obeyed, 
And  fell  below  his  stern :  his  sword,  death's  stamp 
Where  it  did  mark,  it  took  ;  from  face  to  foot, 
He  was  a  thing  of  blood,  whose  every  motion 
Was  tim'd  with  dying  cries.  C.  ii.  2 

But  wherefore  do  you  droop  ?  why  look  you  sad  ? 
Be  great  in  act,  as  you  have  been  in  thought ; 
Let  not  the  world  see  fear  and  sad  distrust 
Govern  the  motion  of  a  kingly  eye  : 
Be  stirring  as  the  time  ;  be  fire  with  fire ; 
Threaten  the  threatener  and  outface  the  brow 

a  • 


OOL        t|iitisjit8rift!  iirtinnari|.       COD 

X)UR  AGE , — continued. 

Of  bragging  horror :  so  shall  inferior  eyes, 

That  borrow  their  behaviour  from  the  great, 

Grow  great  by  your  example,  and  put  on 

The  dauntless  spirit  of  resolution. 

Away ;  and  glister  like  the  god  of  war, 

When  he  intendeth  to  become  the  field : 

Show  boldness  and  aspiring  confidence. 

What,  shall  they  seek  the  lion  in  his  den, 

And  fright  him  there  ?  and  make  him  tremble  there  ? 

0,  let  it  not  be  said  I     Forage,  and  run 

To  meet  displeasure  further  from  the  doors ; 

And  grapple  with  him  ere  he  come  so  nigh.          K.  J.  v.  1. 

He  hath  borne  himself  beyond  the  promise  of  his  age , 
doing  in  the  figure  of  a  lamb  the  feats  of  a  lion.    M.  J..  1. 1. 

When  by  and  by  the  din  of  war  'gan  pierce 

His  ready  sense  ;  then  straight  his  doubled  spirit 

Re-quicken'd  what  in  flesh  was  fatigate, 

And  to  the  battle  came  he  ;  where  he  did 

Run  reeking  o'er  the  lives  of  men,  as  if 

'Twere  a  perpetual  spoil ;  and  till  we  call'd 

Both  field  and  city  ours  he  never  stood 

To  ease  his  breath  with  panting.  C.  ii-  2 

That  misbegotten  devil,  Faulconbridge, 

In  spite  of  spite,  alone,  upholds  the  day.  K.  J.  v.  4. 

Alone  he  entered 

The  mortal  gate  o'  the  city,  which  he  painted 
With  shunless  destiny,  aidless  came  off, 
And  with  a  sudden  reinforcement  struck 
Corioli,  like  a  plane.  C,  ii.  2. 

Safe,  Anthony  ;  Brutus  is  safe  enough : 

I  dare  assure  thee,  that  no  enemy 

Shall  ever  take  alive  the  noble  Brutus : 

The  gods  defend  him  from  so  great  a  shame  ! 

When  you  do  find  him,  or  alive  or  dead, 

He  will  be  found  like  Brutus,  like  himself.  J.  C.  v.  4 

Our  then  dictator 

Whom  without  praise  I  point  at,  saw  him  fight, 
When  with  his  Amazonian  chin  he  drove 
The  bristled  lips  before  him :  he  bestrid 
An  o'er-press'd  Roman,  and  i'  the  consul's  view, 
Slew  three  opposers.  C.  ii.  2, 

Slave,  I  have  set  my  life  upon  a  cast 
And  I  will  stand  the  hazard  of  the  die.  R.  UL  y.  1 

M 


cou        SjjflkfSpririflB  Dirtinnartj.        coc 


COURT. 

Do  you  take  the  court  for  Paris  garden  ?  you  rude  slaves, 
leave  your  gaping.  H.  VIH.  v.  3. 


•BEAUTY. 


Let  the  court  of  France  show  me  such  another :  I  see 
how  thine  eye  would  emulate  the  diamond :  thou  hast  the 
right  arched  bent  of  the  brow,  that  becomes  the  ship-tire, 
the  tire-valiant,  or  any  tire  of  Venetian  admittance. 

M.W.  iii.  3. 

COURTIER  (See  also  TOOLS,  SLAVISHNESS). 

I  am  a  courtier.  See'st  thou  not  the  air  of  the  court 
in  these  enfoldings  ?  Hath  not  my  gait  in  it  the  measure 
of  the  court?  Receiveth  not  thy  nose  court-odour  from 
me?  Reflect  I  not  on  thy  baseness  court-contempt? 

W.  T.  iv.  3. 
You  shall  mark 

Many  a  duteous  and  knee-crooking  knave, 
That  doting  on  his  own  obsequious  bondage, 
Wears  out  his  time,  much  like  his  master's  ass, 
For  nought  but  provender ;  and  when  he's  old,  cashier'd. 

0.  i.  1. 

But  howso'er,  no  simple  man  that  sees 
This  jarring  discord  of  nobility, 
This  shouldering  of  eacli  other  in  the  court, 
This  factious  bandying  of  their  favorites, 
But  that  it  does  presage  some  ill  event.      H.  IV.  PT.  i.  iv.  1. 

COURTSHIP  (See  also  LOVE). 

That  man  that  hath  a  tongue,  I  say  is  no  man, 

If  with  hi«  tongue  he  cannot  win  a  woman.  T.  G.  iii.  1 

Every  night  he  comes 

With  music  of  all  sorts,  and  songs  compos'd 
To  her  unworthiness.     It  nothing  steads  us 
To  chide  him  from  our  eaves ;  for  he  persists, 
As  if  his  life  lay  on't.  A.  W.  iii    < 

I  •will  attend  her  here, 

And  woo  her  with  some  spirit  when  she  comes. 
Say,  that  she  rail ;  why,  then  I'll  tell  her  plain, 
She  sings  ns  sweetly  as  a  nightingale  : 
Say,  that  she  frown ;  I'll  say,  she  looks  as  clear 
As  morning  roses  newly  wash'd  with  dew : 
Say,  she  be  mute,  and  will  not  speak  a  word ; 
Then  I'll  commend  her  volubility, 
And  say, — she  uttereth  piercing  eloquence : 
If  she  do  bid  me  pack,  I'll  give  her  thanks, 
Aa  though  sbe  bid  me  stay  by  her  a  weekj 
9 


eou       ft^ffctifiirifit  ®irtinnart[.        COD 

COURTSHIP,— continued. 

If  she  deny  to  wed,  I'll  crave  the  day 

When  I  shall  ask  the  banns,  and  when  be  married. 

T.  S.  ii.  1. 

I'll  make  my  heaven  in  a  lady's  lap, 
And  deck  my  body  in  gay  ornaments, 
And  witch  sweet  ladies  with  my  words  and  looks. 

H.  VI.  PT.  in.  iii.  2. 
My  story  being  done, 

She  gave  me  for  my  pains  a  world  of  sighs  : 
She  swore, — In  faith,  'twas  strange,  'twas  passing  strange  ; 
'Twas  pitiful,  'twas  wondrous  pitiful : 
She  wish'd  she  had  not  heard  it ;  yet  she  wish'd 
That  heaven  had  made  her  such  a  man  :  she  thank'd  me  ; 
And  bade  me,  if  I  had  a  friend  that  lov'd  her, 
I  should  but  teach  him  how  to  tell  my  storv, 
And  that  would  woo  her.     Upon  this  hint  I  spake  : 
She  lov'd  me  for  the  dangers  I  had  pass'd ; 
And  I  lov'd  her  that  she  did  pity  them.  O.  i.  3. 

King  Edward. — What  love,  think'st  thou,  I  sue  so  much 
to  get? 

Lady  Orey. — My  love  till  death,  my  humble  thanks,  my 
prayers ;  That  love,  which  virtue  begs,  and  virtue  grant*. 

H.  VI.  PT.  in.  iii.  2. 
Make  me  a  willow  cabin  at  your  gate, 
And  call  upon  my  soul  within  the  house  : 
Write  loyal  cantons  of  contemned  love, 
And  sing  them  loud  even  in  the  dead  of  night ; 
Holla  your  name  to  the  reverberate  hills, 
And  make  the  babbling  gossip  of  the  air 
Cry  out,  Olivia  I    0,  you  should  not  rest 
Between  the  elements  of  air  and  earth, 
But  you  should  pity  me.  T.  N.  i.  5. 

Take  no  repulse,  whatever  she  doth  say  ; 
For,  get  you  gone,  she  doth  not  mean,  away. 
Flatter  and  praise,  commend,  extol  their  graces  ; 
Though  ne'er  so  black,  say  they  have  angels'  faces. 

T.  G.  iii.  1. 

Say,  that  upon  the  altar  of  her  beauty 
You  sacrifice  your  tears,  your  sighs,  your  heart ' 
Write  till  your  ink  be  dry ;  and  with  your  tear& 
Moist  it  again,  and  frame  some  feeling  line, 
That  may  discover  such  integrity.  T.  G.  iii.  2 

I  tell  you,  father, 

I  am  as  peremptory  as  she  proud-minded ; 
And  when  two  raging  fires  meet  together, 

M 


cor       Ijjflluspmiuti  iutiaiian[.       cou 

COURTSHIP,— continued. 

They  do  consume  the  thing  that  feeds  their  fury : 

Though  little  tires  grow  great  with  little  wind, 

Yet  extreme  gusts  will  blow  out  fire  and  all : 

So  I  to  her,  and  so  she  yields  to  mo ; 

For  I  am  rough,  and  woo  not  like  a  babe.  T.  S.  ii.  L 

3x>  then,  my  mother,  to  your  daughter  go  ; 

Make  bold  her  bashful  ears  with  your  experience ; 

Prepare  her  ears  to  hear  a  wooer's  tale.  R.  III.  iv.  4 

What!  I  that  kill'd  her  husband,  and  his  father, 

To  take  her  in  her  heart's  extremest  hate  : 

With  curses  in  her  mouth,  tears  in  her  eyes, 

The  bleeding  witness  of  my  hatred  by ; 

With  God,  her  conscience,  and  these  bars  against  me, 

And  I  no  friends  to  back  my  suit  withal, 

But  the  plain  devil  and  dissembling  looks, 

And  yet  to  win  her, — all  the  world  to  nothing  !    R.  Ill  i.  2, 

After  your  dire  lamenting  elegies, 

Visit  by  night  your  lady's  chamber  window, 

With  some  sweet  concert ;  to  their  instruments 

Tune  a  deploring  dump :  the  night's  dead  silence 

Will  well  become  such  sweet  complaining  grievance. 

This,  or  else  nothing,  will  inherit  her.  T.  G.  iii.  2 

Frame  yourself 

To  orderly  solicits  ;  and  be  friended 
With  aptness  to  the  season :  make  denials 
Increase  your  services :  so  seem,  as  if 
You  were  inspir'd  to  do  those  duties  which 
You  tender  to  her ;  that  you  in  all  obey  her, 
Save  when  command  to  your  dismission  tends, 
And  therein  you  are  senseless.  Cym.  ii.  3 

Never  give  her  o'er ; 

For  scorn  at  first,  makes  after-love  the  more. 
If  she  do  frown,  'tis  not  in  hate  of  you, 
But  rather  to  beget  more  love  in  you ; 
If  she  do  chide,  'tis  not  to  have  you  gone ; 
For  why,  the  fools  are  mad  if  left  alone.  T.  0.  iii.  1 

The  count  he  wooes  your  daughter, 
Lays  down  his  wanton  siege  before  her  beauty, 
Resolves  to  carry  her ;  let  her,  in  fine,  consent, 
As  we'll  direct  her  how  'ti?  best  to  bear  it, 
Now  his  important  blood  will  nought  deny 
That  she'll  demand.  A.  W.  iii.  7 

She  is  a  woman,  therefore  may  be  woo'd ; 
She  is  a  woman,  therefore  may  bo  won.          Tit.  And.  ii.  I. 


oou       f  Jrijtti|(fitttf  lirtiniunj,      cow 

COURTSHIP,— continued. 

Men  are  April  when  they  woo,  December  when  they  wed  : 
maids  are  May  when  they  are  maids,  but  the  sky  changes 
when  they  are  wives.  A.Y.  iv.  1. 

Was  ever  woman  in  this  humour  woo'd  ? 

Was  ever  woman  in  this  humour  won  ?  R.  III.  i.  2 

Henceforth  my  wooing  mind  shall  be  express'd 

In  russet  yeas,  and  honest-meaning  noes.  L.  L.  v.  2, 

COWARDS. 

His  mind  is  not  heroic,  and  there's  the  humour  of  it. 

M.  W.  i.  3. 

A  coward,  a  most  devout  cowaru ;  religious  in  it. 

T.  N.  iii.  4 

I  know  him  a  notorious  liar  ; 
Think  him  a  great  way  fool,  solely  a  coward  : 
Yet  these  fix'd  evils  sit  so  fit  in  him, 
That  they  take  place,  when  virtue's  steely  bones 
Look  bleak  in  the  cold  wind.  A.  W.  i.  1 

You  souls  of  geese, 

That  bear  the  shapes  of  men,  how  have  you  run 
From  slaves  that  apes  would  beat !     Pluto  and  hell ! 
All  hurt  behind  ;  backs  red,  and  faces  pale 
With  flight  and  agued  fear !     Mend,  and  charge  home, 
Or,  by  the  fires  of  heaven,  I'll  leave  the  foe, 
And  make  my  wars  on  you :     Look  to't.  (7.  i.  4 

So  bees  with  smoke,  and  doves  with  noisome  stench, 
Are  from  their  hives,  and  houses,  driven  away. 
They  call'd  us,  for  our  fierceness,  English  dogs  ; 
Now,  like  to  whelps,  we  crying  run  away. 

H.VI.  PT.  i.  1.  5. 
The  enemy  full-hearted, 

Lolling  the  tongue  with  slaughtering,  having  work 
More  plentiful  than  tools  to  do't,  struck  down 
Some  mortally,  some  slightly  touch'd,  some  falling 
Merely  through  fear ;  that  the  straight  pass  was  damn'd 
With  dead  men,  hurt  behind,  and  cowards  living 
To  die  with  lengthened  shame.  Cym.  v.  3. 

To  fear  the  foe,  since  fear  oppresseth  strength, 
Gives,  in  your  weakness,  strength  unto  your  foe, 
And  so  your  follies  fight  against  yourself. 
Fear  and  be  slain  ;  no  worse  can  come,  to  fight : 
And  fight  and  die,  is  death  destroying  death  ; 
Where,  fearing  dying,  pays  death  servile  breath. 


ow      Ijjnlttstuanini  Sirtintianj.      oow 


HOWARD,—  continued. 

A  coward  is  worse  than  a  cup  of  sack  with  lime  in  it. 

H.  IV.  PT.  i.  ii.  4 
Slander'd  to  death  by  villains  ; 
That  dare  as  well  answer  a  man,  indeed, 
As  I  dare  take  a  serpent  by  the  tongue  ; 
Boys,  apes,  braggarts,  jacks,  milksops.  M.  A.  v.  1. 

Well,  for  two  of  them,  I  know  them  to  be  as  true  bred 
cowards  as  ever  turned  back  ;  and  for  the  third,  if  he  fight 
longer  than  he  sees  reason,  I'll  forswear  arms. 

H.  IV.  PT.  i.  i.  2. 

How  many  cowards,  whose  hearts  are  all  as  false 
As  stairs  of  sand,  wear  yet  upon  their  chins 
The  beards  of  Hercules,  and  frowning  Mars  ; 
Who,  inward  search'd,  have  livers  white  as  milk  1 
And  these  assume  but  valour's  excrement, 
To  render  them  redoubted.  M.  V.  iii.  2. 

A  plague  of  all  cowards,  I  say,  and  a  vengeance  too  ! 
marry  and  amen  I  H.  IV.  PT.  i.  ii.  4. 

The  mouse  ne'er  shunn'd  the  cat,  as  they  did  budge 
From  rascals  worse  than  they.  C.  \.  6. 

Reproach  and  everlasting  shame 

Sit  mocking  in  our  plumes.  H.  V.  iv.  5 

Did  I  but  suspect  a  fearful  man, 
He  should  have  leave  to  go  away  betimes  ; 
Lest,  in  our  need,  he  might  infect  another, 
And  make  him  of  like  spirit  to  himself. 
If  any  such  be  here,  as  God  forbid  I 
Let  him  depart  before  we  need  his  help. 

H.  VI.  PT.  in.  v.  4 

To  say  the  truth,  this  fact  was  infamous, 
And  ill-beseeming  any  common  man  ; 
Much  more  a  knight,  a  captain,  and  a  leader. 

H.VI.  PT.  i.  iv.  1. 

We  took  him  for  a  coward,  but  he's  the  very  devil  incar- 
dinate.  T.  N.  v.  1 

Cowards  father  cowards,  and  base  things  sire  base  : 
Nature  hath  meal,  and  bran  ;  contempt,  and  grace. 

Cym.  iv.  2. 

All  the  contagion  of  the  south  light  on  you  ! 
You  shames  of  Rome  !     You  herd  of,  —  Boils  and  plagues 
Plaster  you  o'er  ;  that  you  may  be  abhorred 
Farther  than  seen,  and  one  infect  another 
Against  the  wind  a  mile  !  C.  1  .  4. 

fT 


cow      !>jjnkr0pnmiin  ihtiauurtj.       colt 

COWARD,— continued. 

He  which  hath  no  stomach  to  this  fight, 
Let  him  depart ;  his  passport  shall  be  made, 
And  croons  for  convoy  put  into  his  purse  : 
We  would  not  die  in  that  man's  company, 
That  fears  his  fellowship  to  die  with  us.  H,  V,  iv.  3. 

Perish  the  man  whose  mind  is  backward  now.     H.  F.  iv.  3, 

llo's  a  great  quarreller  ;  and,  but  that  he  hath  the  gift 
of  a  coward,  to  allay  the  gust  he  hath  in  quarrelling,  'tis 
thought  among  the  prudent,  he  would  quickly  have  the 
gift  of  a  grave.  T.  N.  i.  3. 

In  a  retreat  he  outruns  any  lacquey  ;  marry,  in  coming 
on,  he  has  the  cramp.  A.  W.  iv.  3. 

You  are  the  hare  of  whom  the  proverb  goes, 
Whose  valour  plucks  dead  lions  by  the  beard.      K.  J.  ii.  1. 
Plenty  and  peace,  breed  cowards  :  hardness  ever 
Of  hardiness  is  mother.  Gym.  in.  6 

I  have  fled  myself;  and  have  instructed  cowards 
To  run,  and  show  their  shoulders.  A.  C.  iii.  9. 

Foul-spoken  coward  I  that  thunderest  with  thy  tongue, 
And  with  thy  weapon  nothing  dar'st  perform.  Tit.  And.  ii.  1. 

He  excels  his  brother  for  a  coward,  yet  his  brother  is 
reputed  one  of  the  best  that  is.  A.  W.  iv.  3. 

Turn  head  and  stop  pursuit ;  for  coward  dogs 
Most  spend  their  mouths,  when  what  they  seem  to  threaten 
Runs  far  before  them.  H.  V.  ii.  4 

So  cowards  fight  when  they  can  fly  no  further : 
As  doves  do  peck  the  falcon's  piercing  talons  ; 
So  desperate  thieves,  all  hopeless  of  their  lives, 
Breathe  out  invectives  'gainst  the  officers. 

H.  VI.  PT.  HI.  i.  4 

Cowards  die  many  times  before  their  deaths : 
The  valiant  never  taste  of  death  but  once.  J.  C.  ii.  2. 

f'OXCOMB  (See  also  FRIBBLE). 

Believe  me,  an  absolute  gentleman,  full  of  most  excel- 
lent differences,  of  very  soft  society,  and  great  showing : 
indeed,  to  speak  feelingly  of  him,  he  is  the  card  or  calendar 
of  gentry,  for  you  shall  find  in  him  the  continent  of  what 
part  a  gentleman  would  see.  H.  v.  2. 

A  man  in  all  the  world's  new  fashion  planted, 
That  hath  a  mint  of  phrases  in  his  brain  : 
One,  whom  the  music  of  his  own  vain  tongue 
I  >oth  ravish  like  enchanting  harmony  ; 
A  man  of  compliments,  whom  right  and  wrong 
Uavt  chose  as  umpire  of  their  mutiny.  L.  L.  i.  L 

68 


cox        Ijjnbspnrian  Cntianan{.        cm 

COXCOM  B,— continued. 

O  murd  rous  coxcomb  !  what  should  such  a  fool 
Do  with  so  good  a  wife  ?  0.  v.  2. 

0  most  profane  coxcomb !  L.L.  iv.  3. 

Thus  has  he  and  many  more  of  the  same  breed,  that,  I 
know,  the  drossy  age  dotes  on,  only  got  the  tune  of  the 
time,  and  outward  habit  of  encounter ;  a  kind  of  yeasty 
collection,  which  carries  them  through  and  through  the 
most  fond  and  winnowed  opinions  ;  and  do  but  blow  them 
to  their  trial,  the  bubbles  are  out.  H.  v.  2. 

A  barren-spirited  fellow.  T.C.  iv.  1. 

COZENERS. 

And,  indeed,  Sir,  there  are  cozeners  abroad ;  therefore  it 
behoves  men  to  be  wary.  W.T,  iv.  3. 

CRAFT,  EXPLODED. 

My  antient  incantations  are  too  weak.        H.  VI.  PT.  i.  v.  3. 

CREDULITY. 

Thus  credulous  fools  are  caught !  0.  iv.  1. 

But  he  that  will  believe  all  that  they  say,  shall  never  b« 

saved  by  half  that  they  do.  A.C.  v.  2. 

CRIMES. 

All  have  not  offended : 

For  those  that  were,  it  is  not  square,  to  take, 

On  those  that  are,  revenges :  crimes,  like  lands, 

Are  not  inherited.  T.  A.  v.  5 

How  oft  the  sight  of  means  to  do  ill  deeds, 

Makes  ill  deeds  done  !  K.J.  iv.  2 


UNPUNISHED. 

For  we  bid  this  be  done, 
When  evil  deeds  have  their  permissive  pass, 
And  not  their  punishment.  M.  M.  i.  4. 

CRISIS. 

Ha  !  is  it  come  to  this  !  K.L.  i.  4. 

Before  the  curing  of  a  strong  disease, 

Even  in  the  instant  of  repair  and  health, 

The  fit  is  strongest ;  evils  that  take  leave, 

On  their  departure  most  of  all  show  evil.  K.  J.  iii.  4 

Things  at  the  worst  will  cease  ;  or  else  climb  upward 

To  what  they  were  before.  M.  iv.  2. 

CRITICAL. 

I  am  nothing  if  not  critical.  O.  ii.  1 

00 


CBO        #jjahBp*ariaii  iirtiniianj.       CRD 

CROAKER. 

I  would  croak  like  a  raven  ;  I  would  bode,  I  would  bode. 

T.C.  v.2, 

CROWN,  REGAL  (See  also  KINGS). 

0  polish'd  perturbation  !  golden  care  ! 
That  keeps  the  ports  of  slumber  open  wide 
To  many  a  watchful  night !  sleep  with  it  now  I 
Yet  not  so  sound,  and  half  so  deeply  sweet 
As  he,  whose  brow  with  homely  biggin  bound, 

Snores  out  the  watch  of  night.  H.  IV.  PT.  kl.  iv.  4, 

A  thousand  flatteries  sit  within  thy  crown, 

Whose  compass  is  no  bigger  than  thy  head ; 

And,  yet  incaged  in  so  small  a  verge, 

The  waste  is  no  whit  lesser  than  thy  land.  R.  H.  ii.  1 

Do  but  think 

How  sweet  a  thing  it  is  to  wear  a  crown ; 
Within  whose  circuit  is  Elysium, 
And  all  that  poets  feign  of  bliss  and  joy.  H.  IV.  PT.  m.  i.  2. 

Heaven  knows,  my  son, 
By  what  by-paths,  and  indirect  crook'd  ways, 

1  met  this  crown  ;  and  I  myserf  know  well, 

How  troublesome  it  sat  upon  my  head.     H.  TV.  PT.  n.  iv.  4 

I  spake  unto  the  crown  as  having  sense, 

And  thus  upbraided  it :     The  care  on  thee  depending, 

Hath  fed  upon  the  body  of  my  father  ; 

Therefore  thou,  best  of  gold,  art  worst  of  gold; 

Other,  less  fine  in  carat,  is  more  precious, 

Preserving  life  in  med'cine  potable; 

But  thou,  most  fine,  most  honoured,  most  renovm'd, 

Hast  eat  thy  bearer  up.    Thus,  my  most  royal  liege, 

Accusing  it,  I  put  it  on  my  head ; 

To  try  with  it,  as  with  an  enemy, 

That  had  before  my  face  murdered  my  father, — 

The  quarrel  of  a  true  inheritor.  H.  IV.  PT.  n.  IT.  4 

CRUELTY. 

0,  be  thou  damn'd,  inexorable  dog ! 

And  for  thy  life  let  justice  be  accus'd. 

Thou  almost  mak'st  me  waver  in  my  faith, 

To  hold  opinion  with  Pythagoras, 

That  souls  of  animals  infuse  themselves 

Into  the  trunks  of  men :  thy  currish  spirit, 

Govern'd  a  wolf;  who,  hang'd  for  human  slaughter, 

Even  from  the  gallows  did  his  fell  soul  fleet, 

And  whilst  thou  layest  in  thy  unhallow'd  dam, 

Infus'd  itself  in  thee ;  for  thy  desires 

Are  wolfish,  blnody,  starv'd,  and  ravenous.          M.  V.  IT.  1 


CRU       IjjflfoBpunan  Sittinnarij.       CUR 

CRUELTY,— continued. 

I  am  sorry  for  thee  ;  thou  art  come  to  answer 

A  stony  adversary,  an  inhuman  wretch, 

Uncapable  of  pity,  void  and  empty 

From  any  dram  of  mercy.  M.  V.  iv.  L 

See,  ruthless  queen,  a  hapless  father's  tears ; 

This  cloth  thou  dipp'dst  in  blood  of  my  sweet  boy, 

And  I  with  tears  do  wash  the  blood  away, 

Keep  thou  the  napkin,  and  go  boast  of  this : 

And,  if  thou  telPst  the  heavy  story  right, 

Upon  my  soul,  the  hearers  will  shed  tears ; 

Yea,  even  my  foes  will  shed  fast^falling  tears  ; 

And  say, — Alas,  it  was  a  piteous  deed!     H.  VI.  PT.  in.  i.  4 

She-wolf  of  France,  but  worse  than  wolves  of  France, 

Whose  tongue  more  poisons  than  the  adder's  tooth  I 

How  ill-beseeming  is  it  in  thy  sex, 

To  triumph  like  an  Amazonian  trull, 

Upon  their  woes  whom  fortune  captivates ! 

H.  VI.  PT.  in.  i.  « 

But  neither  bended  knees,  pure  hands  held  up, 
Sad  sighs,  deep  groans,  nor  silver-shedding  teara, 
Could  penetrate  her  uncompassionate  sire.  T.G.  iii.  1 

CRUSADE. 

Therefore,  friends, 
As  far  as  to  the  sepulchre  of  Christ, 
(Whose  soldier  now,  under  whose  blessed  cross 
We  are  impressed  and  ingagM  to  fight,) 
Forthwith  a  power  of  English  shall  we  levy ; 
Whose  arms  were  moulded  in  their  mother's  womb, 
To  chase  these  pagans,  in  those  holy  fields, 
Over  whose  acres  walk'd  those  blessed  feet, 
Whnh  fourteen  hundred  years  ago,  were  nail'd, 
For  our  advantage,  on  the  bitter  cross.        H.  IV.  PT.  i.  i.  1. 

CUCKOLD. 

Amaimon  sounds  well ;  Lucifer,  well ;  Barbason,  well ; 
yet  they  are  devils'  additions,  the  names  of  fiends ;  but 
cuckold  1  wittol-cuckold  1  the  devil  himself  hath  not  such 
a  name.  M.  W.  ii.  2 

CUDGEL. 

I'll  have  the  cudgel  hallowed  and  hung  o'er  the  altar: 
it  hath  done  meritorious  service.  M.  W.  iv.  2, 

CUPIDS. 

Some  Cupids  kill  with  arrows,  some  with  traps.    M.  -4-  iii-  1. 

CURIOSITIES. 

I  pray  you,  let  us  satisfy  oar  eyes 
ii 


CUR       ijjnkrspariau  DirtiaHiutj.        cus 

CURIOSITIES,— continued. 

With  the  memorials  and  the  things  of  fame, 

That  do  renown  this  city.  T.  N.  iii.  3, 

CURRENTS,  MARITIME. 

Like  to  the  Pontic  sea, 
Whose  icy  current,  and  compulsive  course 
Ne'er  feels  retiring  ebb,  but  keeps  due  on 
To  the  Propontic,  and  the  Hellespont.  0.  iii.  3. 

CURS. 

0  'tis  a  foul  thing,  when  a  cur  cannot  keep  himself  in 
all  companies  1  I  would  have,  as  one  should  say,  one  that 
taketh  upon  him  to  be  a  dog  indeed,  to  be,  as  it  were,  a 
dog  at  all  things.  T.O.  iv.  4. 

When  a  man's  servant  shall  play  the  cur  with  him, 
look  you,  it  goes  hard :  one  that  I  brought  up  a  puppy  > 
one  that  I  saved  from  drowning,  when  three  or  four  of 
his  blind  brothers  and  sisters  went  to  it !  I  have  taught 
him— even  as  one  would  say  precisely, — Thus  I  would 
teach  a  dog.  T.G.  iv.  4. 

CURSING. 

I  would  the  gods  had  nothing  else  to  do, 

But  to  confirm  my  curses  1  C.  iv.  2. 

CUSTOM  (See  also  HABIT). 

Custom  hath  made  it  in  him  a  property  of  easiness. 

H.  v.  1 

Custom  calls  me  to' t : — 

What  custom  wills  in  all  things  should  we  do't ; 
The  dust  on  antique  time  would  lie  unswept, 
And  mountainous  error  be  too  highly  heap'd 
For  truth  to  overpeer.  C.  \\. ) 

Nice  customs  curt'sey  to  great  kings.  H.  V.  v.  1 

Assume  a  virtue  if  you  have  it  not, 
That  monster,  custom,  who  all  sense  doth  eat 
Of  habit's  devil,  is  angel  yet  in  this.  H.  iii.  * 

Thou,  nature,  art  my  goddess  ;  to  thy  law 
My  services  are  bound.    Wherefore  should  I 
Stand  in  the  plague  of  custom  ?  K.  L.  i.  J 

VILE. 

Though  I  am  native  here, 
And  to  the  manner  born, — it  is  a  custom 
Mere  honour'd  in  the  breach  than  the  observance.     H.  i.  4 
n 


DAG       #jjak*fpmtflfl  Dirtifluurij. 


DAGGERS. 

I  will  speak  daggers  to  her,  but  use  none.  H.  iii.  2. 

DALLIANCE,  UNSEASONABLE. 

No,  when  light-wing'd  toys 
Of  feather'd  Cupid  seel  with  wanton  dullness 
My  speculative  and  active  instruments, 
That  my  disports  corrupt  and  taint  ray  business, 
Let  housewives  make  a  skillet  of  my  helm, 
And  all  indign  and  base  adversities 

Make  head  against  my  estimation.  0.  i«  3. 

A  woman  impudent  and  mannish  grown 
Is  not  more  loath'd  than  an  effeminate  man 
In  time  of  action.     I  stand  condeniu'd  for  this  ; 
They  think,  my  little  stomach  to  the  war, 
And  your  great  love  to  me,  restrains  you  thus: 
Sweet,  rouse  yourself ;  and  the  weak  wanton  Cupid 
Shall  from  your  neck  unloose  his  amorous  fold, 
And,  like  a  dew-drop  from  the  lion's  mane, 
Be  shook  to  air.  T.  C  in.  3. 

DANGER. 

There  Monitaurs  and  ugly  treason  lurk.      H.  VI.  PT.  i.  v.  3. 
Smooth  runs  the  water  where  the  brook  is  deep. 

H.  VI.  PT.  n.  iii.  1. 

France,  thou  mayest  hold  a  serpent  by  the  tongue, 

A  cased  lion  by  the  mortal  paw, 

A  fasting  tyger  safer  by  the  tooth 

Than  keep  in  peace  that  hand  which  thou  dost  hold. 

K.J.in.l. 

"  The  purpose  you  undertake  is  dangerous :" — why,  that's 
certain  ;  'tis  dangerous  to  take  a  cold,  to  sleep,  to  drink ; — 
but  I  tell  you,  my  lord  fool,  out  of  this  nettle,  danger,  we 
pluck  this  flower,  safety.  H.  IV.  PT.  i.  ii.  3. 

The  welfare  of  us  all 
Hangs  on  the  cutting  short  that  fraudful  man. 

H.  VI.  PT.  ii.  iii.  1 

If  you  do  wrongfully  seize  Hereford's  rights — 
You  pluck  a  thousand  dangers  on  your  head  ; 
You  lose  a  thousand  well-disposed  hearts, 
And  prick  my  tender  patience  to  those  thoughts 
Which  honour  and  allegiance  cannot  think.         R.  II.  ii.  1. 

Blunt  wedges  rive  hard  knots :  the  seeded  pride 
That  hath  to  this  maturity  blown  up 

7*  T 


DAN       $jiakj0jniinntt  DirtiBttarij.      DAW 

DANGER,— continued. 

In  rank  Achilles,  must  or  now  be  cropp'd, 

Or,  shedding,  breed  a  nursery  of  like  evil, 

To  overbulk  us  all.  T.  0.  i.  3. 

There  is  more  in  it  than  fair  visage.  H.  VIII.  iii.  2. 

OLD. 

'Tis  better  playing  with  a  lion's  whelp 

Than  with  an  old  one  dying.  A.C.  iii.  11. 

DARING. 

As  full  of  peril  and  adventurous  spirit 

As  to  o'er-walk  a  current  roaring  loud 

On  the  uncertain  footing  of  a  spear.  H.  IV.  FT.  i.  i.  3 

I'll  cross  it  though  it  blast  me.  H.  i.  1. 

I  dare  damnation :     To  this  point  I  stand.  H.  iv.  5. 

DARKNESS,  ITS  EFFECT  ON  TUE  FACULTY  OF  HEARING. 
Dark  night,  that  from  the  eye  his  function  takes, 
The  ear  more  quick  of  apprehension  makes ; 
Wherein  it  doth  impair  the  seeing  sense, 
It  pays  the  hearing  double  recompense.  M.  N.  iii.  2. 

MENTAL. 

Madam,  thou  errest :  I  say,  there  is  no  darkness  but 
ignorance ;  in  which  thou  art  more  puzzled,  than  the 
Egyptians  in  their  fog.  T.  N.  iv.  2. 

DAUGHTERS. 

Fathers,  from  hence  trust  not  your  daughters, 

By  what  you  see  them  act.  0.  i.  1. 

DAWN. 

The  third  hour  of  drowsy  morning.  H.  V.  iv.  chorut. 

The  silent  hour  steals  on, 

And  flaky  darkness  breaks  within  the  east.         R.  III.  v.  3. 
And  yon  grey  lines  that  fret  the  clouds, 

j         Are  messengers  of  day.  J.  C.  ii.  1. 

This  morning,  like  the  spirit  of  youth 
That  means  to  be  of  note,  begins  betimes.  A.  C.  iv.  \. 

Swift,  swift,  you  dragons  of  the  night !— that  dawning 
May  bare  the  raven's  eye.  Cym.  ii.  1. 

But,  look,  the  dawn,  in  russet  mantle  clad, 
Walks  o'er  the  dew  of  yon  high  eastern  hilL  H.  i.  1, 

The  glow-worm  shows  the  matin  to  be  near, 
And  'gina  to  pale  his  ineffectual  fire.  H.  L  £ 

Night's  swift  dragons  cut  the  clouds  full  fast; 
And  yonder  shines  Aurora's  harbinger  j    ' 
14 


DAW       gjjakfspmian  Sirtinnnrtj.       DEI 


DAWN,  —  continued. 

At  whose  approach,  ghosts  wand'ring  here  and  thcrfe. 

Troop  home  to  clmrch-yards  :  damned  spirits  all, 

That  in  cross-ways  and  floods  have  burial, 

Already  to  their  wormy  beds  are  gone.  M.  N.  iii.  2. 

The  wolves  have  prey'd;  and  look,  the  gentle  day 

Before  the  wheels  of  Phoebus,  round  about 

Dapples  the  drowsy  east  with  spots  of  grey.         M.  A.  v.  3. 

The  grey-ey'd  morn  smiles  on  the  frowning  night 

Checkering  the  eastern  clouds  with  streaks  of  light  ; 

And  flecked  darkness  like  a  drunkard  reels 

From  forth  day's  path-way  made  by  Titan's  wheels. 

R.J.  iLS. 

It  was  the  lark,  the  herald  of  the  morn, 
No  nightingale  :  look,  love,  what  envious  streaks 
Do  lace  the  severing  clouds  in  yonder  east  : 
Night's  candles  are  burnt  out,  and  jocund  day 
Stands  tip-toe  on  the  misty  mountain's  top.          R.  J.  iii.  5  . 
Look,  the  unfolding  star  calls  up  the  shepherd.  M.  M.  iv.  2. 

DAY. 

Even  from  Hyperion's  rising  in  the  east 

Until  his  very  downfall  in  the  sea.  Tit.  And.  v.  2. 

The  stirring  passage  of  the  day.  C.  E.  iii.  1. 

As  when  the  golden  sun  salutes  the  morn, 

And  having  gilt  the  ocean  with  his  beams, 

Gallops  the  zodiac  in  his  glistermg  coach, 

And  overlooks  the  highest  peering  hills.          TU.  And.  li.  1. 

'Tis  a  lucky  day,  boy  ;  and  we'll  do  good  deeds  on't. 

W.  T.  iii.  3 
0,  such  a  day, 

So  fought,  so  follow'd,  and  so  fairly  won, 
Came  not,  till  now,  to  dignify  the  times, 
Since  CaBsar's  fortunes  1  H.  IV.  PT.  n.  i.  1. 

DEATH  (See  also  MAN,  TIME,  MIGHTY  DEAD,  LIFE,  SOLDIER'S 

DEATH). 
The  blind  cave  of  eternal  night.  B.  in.  v.  3. 

Here  is  my  journey's  end  ;  here  is  my  butt, 

And  very  sea-mark  of  my  utmost  sail.  O.  T.  2. 

0  ruin'd  piece  of  nature  1  this  great  world 

Shall  so  wear  out  to  nought.  K.  L.  iv.  6. 

Nay,  nothing  ;  all  is  said  : 
His  tongue  is  now  a  stringless  instrument  ; 
Words,  life,  and  all,  old  Lancaster  hath  spent.     R.  If.  ii.  I 
W 


DBA       £|rffkfff*irtii  fiittinnnnj. 


,—  continued. 
Dead,  for  my  life. 
Even  so  ;  —  my  tale  is  told.  L.  L.  v.  2 

Have  felt  the  worst  of  death's  destroying  wound 

And  lie  full  low,  grav;d  in  the  hollow  ground.    R.  II.  iii.  2. 

Art  thou  gone  too  ?  all  comfort  go  with  thee  I 
For  none  abides  with  me  :  my  joy  is  —  death  ; 
Death,  at  whose  name  I  oft  have  been  afeard, 
Because  I  wish'd  this  world's  eternity.  H.  rf  e-  11.  •„.  « 

0,  I  do  fear  thee,  Claudio  ;  and  I  quake 

Lest  thou  a  feverous  life  should'st  enterta'u 

And  six  or  seven  winters  more  respecf 

Than  a  perpetual  honour.  M.  M.  iii.  1 

I  am  a  tainted  wether  of  the  flock, 

Meetest  for  death  ;  the  weakest  k>a^  o^  rruit 

Drops  earliest  to  the  ground,  a'^d  t,o  '.et  me.         M.  V.  iv.  1 


All  is  but  toys  :  renown,  ana  ^raoe,  is 

The  wine  of  life  is  drawr.,  aad  the  mere  lees 

Is  lefi  this  vault  to  biag  of.  M.  ii.  3 

To-day,  how  many  would  bavfl  giver,  their  honours 

To  have  sav'd  their  carcasses  I  took  heel  to  do't, 

And  yet  died  too  !     I,  in  mine  own  woe  charm'd, 

Could  not  find  death,  where  I  did  hear  him  groan  ; 

Nor  feel  him,  where  he  struck.  Cym.  v.  3 

It  is  too  late  ;  the  life  of  all  this  blood 

Is  touch'd  corruptibly  ;  and  his  pure  brain 

(Which  some  suppose  the  soul's  frail  dwelling  house,) 

Doth,  by  the  idle  comments  that  it  makes, 

Foretel  the  ending  of  mortality.  K.  J.  v.  7 

So  now  prosperity  begins  to  mellow, 

And  drop  into  the  rotten  mouth  of  death,          R.  HI.  iv.  4 

Thou  knoVst  'tis  common  ;  all  that  live  must  die, 

Passing  through  nature  to  eternity.  H.  i.  2 

This  fell  serjeant  death 
Is  strict  in  his  arrest.  H.  v.  5 

Dost  fall? 

If  thou  and  nature  can  so  gently  part, 
The  stroke  of  death  is  as  a  lover's  pinch 
Which  hurts  and  is  desir'd.     Dost  thou  lie  still  T 
If  thus  thou  vanishest,  thou  tell'st  the  world 
It  is  not  worth  leave-taking.  A.  O.  v.  i. 

0.  our  lives'  sweetness  I 
That  with  the  pain  of  death,  we'd  hourly  die, 
Rather  than  die  at  once  !  K.  L.  T.  J, 

If 


DBA       $jjafofpiari0Q  Dhtionarij. 

DEATH,— continued. 

We  must  die,  Messala : 
With  meditating  that  she  must  die  once, 
I  have  the  patience  to  endure  it  now.  /.  C.  iv.  3. 

0  amiable,  lovely  death  I 
Thou  odoriferous  stench  !  sound  rottenness  1 
A  rise  forth  from  the  couch  of  lasting  night, 
Thou  hate  and  terror  to  prosperity, 
And  I  will  kiss  thy  detestable  bones  ; 
And  put  my  eye-balls  in  thy  vaulty  brows ; 
And  ring  these  fingers  with  thy  household  worms ; 
And  stop  this  gap  of  breath  with  fulsome  dust, 
And  be  a  carrion  monster  like  thyself: 
Come,  grin  on  me ;  and  I  will  think  thou  smil'st ; 
And  buss  thee  as  thy  wife  ?     Misery's  love, 
0,  come  to  me  1  K.  J.  iii.  4, 

Eyes,  look  your  lust ! 

Arms,  take  your  last  embrace  1  and  lips,  0  you, 
The  doors  of  breath,  seal  with  a  righteous  kiss 
A  dateless  bargain  to  engrossing  death.  R.  J.  v.  3. 

Stay  but  a  little  ;  for  my  cloud  of  dignity 
Is  held  from  falling  with  so  weak  a  wind, 
That  it  will  quickly  drop.  H.  IV.  FT.  11.  iv.  4 

Thy  bones  are  marrowless,  thy  blood  is  cold ; 

Thou  hast  no  speculation  in  tnose  eyes 

Which  thou  dost  glare  with.  M.  iii.  4 

0,  my  love !  my  wife  1 

Death,  that  hath  suck'd  the  honey  of  thy  breath, 
Hath  had  no  power  yet  upon  thy  beauty : 
Thou  art  not  conquer'd  ;  beauty's  ensign  yet 
Is  crimson  in  thy  lips,  and  in  thy  cheeks, 
And  death's  pale  flag  is  not  advanced  there.          R.  J.  v.  3. 
By  medicine  life  may  be  prolong'd,  yet  death 
Will  seize  the  doctor  too.  Cym.  v.  5, 

That  we  shall  die,  we  know ;  'tis  but  the  time, 
And  drawing  days  out,  that  men  stand  upon.       J.  C.  iii.  I. 

Cowards  die  many  times  before  their  deaths  ; 

Tke  valiant  never  taste  of  death  but  once. 

Of  all  the  wonde-rs  that  I  yet  have  heard, 

It  seems  to  me  most  strange  that  men  should  fear ; 

Seeing  that  death,  a  necessary  end, 

Will  come  when  it  will  come.  /.  C.  ii.  2, 

Close  up  his  eyes,  and  draw  the  curtain  close, 

And  let  us  all  to  meditation.  H.  VI.  FT.  n.  iii.  $ 


DBA        ft}tkiff*ffiii  iirtinuart|.       DBA 

DEATH,— continued. 

Death  remember'd,  should  be  like  a  mirror, 

Who  tells  us,  life's  but  a  breath ;  to  trust  it,  error 

P.  P.  I  I. 

Oft  have  I  seen  a  timely  parted  ghost, 
Of  ashy- semblance,  meagre,  pale,  and  bloodless, 
Being  all  descended  to  the  labouring  heart ; 
Who,  in  the  conflict  that  it  holds  with  death, 
Attracts  the  same  for  aidance  'gainst  the  enemy  ; 
Which,  with  the  heart  there  cools  and  ne'er  returneth 
To  blush  and  beautify  the  cheek  again.     H.  VL  PT.  n.  iii.  2 

The  sleeping  and  the  dead 
Are  but  as  pictures :  'tis  the  eye  of  childhood 
That  fears  a  painted  devil.  M.  ii.  2, 

Finish,  good  lady,  the  bright  day  is  done, 

And  we  are  for  the  dark.  A.C.  v.  2 

Dar'st  thou  die  ? 

The  sense  of  death  is  most  in  apprehension  , 
And  the  poor  beetle  that  we  tread  upon, 
In  corporal  sufferance  feels  a  pang  as  great, 
As  when  a  giant  dies.  M.  M.  iii.  i. 

Though  death  be  poor,  it  ends  a  mortal  woe.       R.  II.  ii.  1 
0  you  mighty  gods  I 

This  world  I  do  renounce  ;  and  in  your  sights, 
Shake  patiently  my  great  affliction  off: 
If  I  could  bear  it  longer,  and  not  fall 
To  quarrel  with  your  great  opposeless  wills, 
My  snuff,  and  loathed  part  of  nature,  should 
Burn  itself  out.  K.  L.  iv.  6 

Her  blood  ie  settled  and  these  joints  are  stiff; 
Life  and  these  lips  have  long  been  separated : 
Death  lies  on  her,  like  an  untimely  frost 
Upon  the  sweetest  flower  of  all  the  field.  R.  J.  iv.  5 

To  die,  is  to  be  banish'd  from  myself.  T.  G.  iii.  1 

0,  death's  a  great  disguiser.  M.  M.  iv.  2 

We  cannot  hold  mortality's  strong  hand.  K.  J.  iv.  2 

Ay,  but  to  die,  and  go  we  know  not  where ; 
To  lie  in  cold  obstruction,  and  to  rot : 
This  sensible  warm  motion  to  become 
A  kneaded  clod  ;  and  the  delighted  spirit 
To  bathe  in  tiery  floods,  or  to  reside 
In  thrilling  regions  of  thick-ribbed  ice  ; 
To  be  imprison'd  in  the  viewless  winds, 
And  blown  with  restless  violence  round  about 
The  pendant  world ;  or  to  be  worse  than  worst 
H 


DBA        IjjnkBBjucriiin  iirtinnartj.       DBA 

DEATH,— continued. 

Of  those,  that  lawless  and  incertain  thoughts 

Imagine  howling  ! — 'tis  too  horrible  ! 

The  weariest  and  most  loathed  worldly  life, 

That  age,  ache,  penury,  and  imprisonment 

Can  lay  on  nature,  is  a  paradise 

To  what  we  fear  of  death.  M.  M.  iii.  1 

Where  art  thou,  death  ? 

Come  hither,  come !  come,  come,  and  take  a  queen 

Worth  many  babes  and  beggars.  A.C.  v.  2. 

Art  thou  so  bare,  and  full  of  wretchedness, 

And  fear'st  to  die  ?  Famine  is  in  thy  cheeks, 

Need  and  oppression  starveth  in  thy  eyes, 

Upon  thy  back  hangs  ragged  misery, 

The  world  is  not  thy  friend  nor  the  world's  law.    R.  J.  v.  1. 

Receive  what  cheer  you  may ; 

The  night  is  long  that  never  finds  a  day.  M.  iv.  3. 

Tust  death,  kind  umpire  of  men's  miseries, 
With  sweet  enlargement  doth  dismiss  me  hence. 

H.VI.  PT.  i.  u.  5. 

J  am  resolv'd  for  death  or  dignity.  H.  VI.  PT.  n.  v.  1. 

Ah,  what  a  sign  it  is  of  evil  life, 
When  death's  approach  is  seen  so  terrible  ! 

H.  VI.  PT.  ii.  iii.  3. 
The  worst  is, — death,  and  death  will  have  his  day. 

R.  n.  iii.  2. 
He  has  walk'd  the  way  of  nature.  H.IV.  PT.  n.  v.  2. 

Pr'ythee,  have  done, 

And  do  not  play  in  wench-like  words  with  that 
Which  is  so  serious.     Let  us  bury  him, 
And  not  protract  with  admiration,  what 
Is  now  due  debt.     To  the  grave.  Gym.  iv.  2 

— OF  BUCKINGHAM,  THE  DUKE  OT. 

All  good  people, 

You  that  thus  far  have  come  to  pity  me, 

Hear  what  I  say,  and  then  go  home  and  lose  me. 

I  have  this  day  receiv'd  a  traitor's  judgment, 

And  by  that  name  must  die  ;  yet,  heaven  bear  witness, 

And  if  I  have  a  conscience  let  it  sink  me, 

Even  as  the  axe  falls,  if  I  be  not  faithful  I 

You  few  that  lov'd  me. 
And  dare  be  bold  to  weep  for  Buckingham, 
His  noble  friends,  and  fellows,  whom  to  leave 
Is  only  bitter  to  him,  only  dying, 
Go  with  me  like  good  angels,  to  my  end  ; 
And  as  the  long  divorce  of  steel  falls  on  mo, 
79 


DEA       Ijjabspmtnn  ®uttonari|. 

D  E  ATH, — ".ontinued. 

Make  of  your  prayers  one  sweet  sacrifice, 

And  lift  my  soul  to  heaven.     Lead  on,  o'  God's  name. 

H.VIU.  ii.l 

— FALSTAFF. 

'A  made  a  finer  end,  and  went  away  an  it  had  been  any 
christom  child  ;  'a  parted  just  between  twelve  and  one  ;— 
e'en  at  the  turning  of  the  tide :  for  after  I  saw  him  fumble 
with  the  sheets,  and  play  with  flowers,  and  smile  upon  his 
fingers,  ends,  I  knew  there  was  but  one  way ;  for  his  nose 
was  as  sharp  as  a  pen,  and  'a  babbled  of  green  fields. 
How  now,  Sir  John,  quoth  I :  what,  man !  be  of  good  cheer. 
So  'a  cried  out,  God ! — three  or  four  times :  now  I,  to  com- 
fort him,  bid  him  'a  should  not  think  of  God ;  I  hoped  there 
was  no  need  to  trouble  himself  with  any  such  thoughts  yet. 

JZF.ii.  3. 


GLOUCESTER,  HUMPHREY,  DUKE  OF. 


But,  see,  his  face  is  black  and  full  of  blood  ; 
His  eye-balls  further  out  than  when  he  liv'd, 
Staring  full  ghastly  like  a  strangled  man  ; 
His  hair  uprear'd,  his  nostrils  stretch'd  with  struggling; 
His  hands  abroad  display'd,  as  one  that  grasp'd 
And  tugg'd  for  life,  and  was  by  strength  subdued. 
Look  on  the  sheets,  his  hair,  you  see,  is  sticking; 
His  well-proportion'd  beard  made  rough  and  rugged, 
Like  to  the  summer's  corn  by  tempests  lodg'd. 

H.  VI.  PT.  ii.  iii.  2 

KING  HENRY  IV. 

By  his  gates  of  breath, 
There  lies  a  downy  feather,  which  stirs  not : 
Did  he  suspire,  that  light  and  weightless  down 
Perforce  must  move. — My  gracious  lord  1  my  father  I 
This  sleep  is  sound  indeed  ;  this  is  a  sleep, 
That  from  this  golden  rigol  hath  divorc'd 
So  many  English  kings.  H.IV.  PT.  n.  iv. 

— KINO  HENRY  VI. 

I'll  hear  no  more.— Die,  prophet,  in  thy  speech ; 

For  this  among  the  rest  was  I  ordain'd. — 

What,  will  the  aspiring  blood  of  Lancaster 

Sink  in  the  ground  ?     I  thought  it  would  have  mounted 

See,  how  my  sword  weeps  for  the  poor  king's  death  ! 

0,  may  such  purple  tears  be  always  shed 

From  those  that  wish  the  downfall  of  our  house  ' 

If  any  spark  of  life  be  yet  remaining, 

Down,  down,  to  hell ;  and  say, — I  sent  thee  thither. 

H.VLrr.  in.  v  6. 


DKA       Ijjnkfspforifln  Dirtintianr. 

DBA  TH,— continued. 
KING  JOHN. 

Aye,  marry,  now  my  soul  hath  elbow  room  ; 

It  would  not  out  at  windows  nor  at  doors. 

There  is  so  hot  a  summer  in  my  bosom, 

That  all  my  bowels  crumble  up  to  dust : 

I  am  a  scribbled  form,  drawn  with  a  pen, 

Upon  a  parchment ;  and  against  this  fire 

Do  I  shrink  up. 

Prince  Henry. — How  fares  your  Majesty  ? 

King  John. — Poison'd, — ill  fare  ; — dead,  forsook,  cast  iff : 

And  none  of  you  will  bid  the  winter  come, 

And  thrust  his  icy  fingers  in  my  maw ; 

Nor  let  my  kingdom's  rivers  take  their  course 

Through  my  burn'd  bosom ;  nor  entreat  the  north 

To  make  his  break  winds  kiss  my  parched  lips, 

And  comfort  me  with  cold  :  I  do  not  ask  you  much, 

I  beg  cold  comfort. 

[Enter  Falconbridge 

0  cousin,  thou  art  come  to  set  mine  eye : 

The  tackle  of  my  heart  is  crack'd  and  burn'd  ; 

And  all  the  shrouds  wherewith  my  life  should  sail, 

Are  turned  to  one  thread,  one  little  hair : 

My  heart  hath  one  poor  string  to  stay  it  by, 

Which  holds  but  till  thy  news  be  utter'd  ; 

And  then  all  this  thou  see'st  is  but  a  clod, 

And  module  of  confounded  royalty.  K.  J.  v.  7 

—    JULIUS  CAESAR. 

Et  tu  Brute  /—Then  fall,  Caesar.  /.  C.  iii.  1 

How  many  ages  hence, 
Shall  this  our  lofty  scene  be  acted  over, 
In  states  unborn  and  accents  yet  unknown  1  /.  C.  iii.  1 

KINO  RICHARD  II. 

How  now  ?  what  means  death  in  this  rude  assault  ? 

Villain,  thy  own  hand  yields  thy  death's  instrument. 

Go  thou  and  fill  another  room  in  hell. 

That  hand  shall  burn  in  never-quenching  fire, 

That  staggers  thus  my  person.     Exton,  thy  fierce  band 

Hath,  with  the  king's  blood,  stain'd  the  king's  own  land. 

Mount,  mount,  my  soul  I  thy  seat  is  up  on  high ; 

Whilst  my  gross  flesh  sinks  downward  here  to  lie. 

B.  n.  T. s 

WARWICK,  EARL  OF. 

Ah,  who  is  nigh  ?  come  to  me,  friend  or  foe. 

And  tell  me  who  is  victor,  York  or  Warwick  ? 

Why  ask  I  that  1  my  mangled  body  shows, 

My  blood,  my  want  of  strength,  my  sick  heart  shows, 

81 


IjjflbBpartati  SirtiQnanj.       DRI 


That  I  must  yield  my  body  to  the  earth, 
And,  by  my  fall,  the  conquest  to  iny  foe. 

Thus  yields  the  cedar  to  the  axe's  edge,      » 
Whose  arms  gave  sheltor  to  the  princely  eagle, 
Under  whose  shade  the  ramping  lion  slept: 
Whose    top-branch  overpeer'd  Jove's  spreading  tree, 
And  kept  low  shrubs  from  winter's  powerful  wind. 
These  eyes  that  now  are  dimm'd  with  death's  black  veil, 
Have  been  as  piercing  as  the  mid-day  sun, 
To  search  the  secret  treasons  of  the  world  : 
The  wrinkles  in  my  brows  now  fill'd  with  blood, 
Were  liken'd  oft  to  kingly  sepulchres; 
For  who  Hv'd  king  but  I  could  dig  his  grave. 

Lo,  now  my  glory,  smear'd  in  dust  and  blood  ! 
My  parks,  my  walks,  my  manors  that  I  had, 
Even  now  forsake  me  ;  and,  of  all  my  lands, 
Is  nothing  left  me  but  my  body's  length  ! 
,Why,  what  is  pomp,  rule,  reign,  but  earth  and  dust  ? 
And,  live  we  how  we  can,  yet,  die  we  must. 

H.  VI.  PT.  in.  T.  2 


WOLSEY,  CARDINAL. 


At  last,  with  easy  roads,  he  came  tc  Leicester, 

Lodg'd  in  the  abbey ;  where  the  reverend  abbot, 

With  all  his  convent,  honourably  receiv'd  him ; 

To  whom  he  gave  these  words, — 0,  father  abbot, 

An  old  man,  broken  with  the  storms  of  state, 

Is  come  to  lay  his  weary  bones  among  ye ; 

Give  him  a  little  earth  for  charity  ! 

So  went  to  bed :  where  eagerly  his  sickness 

Pursued  him  etill ;  and,  three  days  after  this, 

About  the  hour  of  eight  (which  he  himself 

Foretold  should  be  his  last,)  full  of  repentance, 

Continual  meditations,  tears,  and  sorrows,  , 

Ha  gave  his  honours  to  the  world  again, 

His  blessed  part  to  heaven, — and  slept  in  peace. 

-ff.F2ZT.iY.  2 

OF  THE  ILLUSTRIOUS,  BY  VILE  HANDS. 

Great  men  oft  die  by  vile  bezoniana  : 
A  Roman  sworder  and  banditti  slave, 
Murder'd  sweet  Tully ;  Brutus'  bastard  hand 
Stabb'd  Julius  Caesar ;  savage  islanders 
Pompey  the  great :  and  Suffolk  dies  by  pirates. 

H.  VI.  PT.  ii.  iv.  1 

CONTEMPT  OF. 

There  spake  my  brother ;  there  my  father's  grave 
Did  utter  forth  a  voice !    Yes,  thou  must  die  • 

H 


DBA       #jmk*»]uariiiii  Dirtinuanj. 

DEATH,— continued. 

Thou  art  too  noble  to  conserve  a  life 

In  base  appliances.  M  M.  iii.  1. 

— LEVELS  DISTINCTIONS. 

Thersites'  body  is  as  good  as  Ajar1 

When  neither  are  alive.  Cym.  iv  2. 

•"•        ABIDES  WITH  THE  LUXURIOUS. 

Being  an  ugly  monster, 

'Tis  strange  he  hides  him  in  fresh  cups,  soft  beds, 
Sweet  words  ;  or  hath  more  ministers  than  we 
That  draw  his  knives  i'  the  war.  Cym.  v.  3, 

RELIEVES  AND  PREVENTS  MISERIES. 

Which  shackles  accidents,  and  bolts  up  change.     A.C.  v,  2. 

Duncan  is  in  his  grave  ; 
After  life's  fitful  fever,  he  sleeps  well ; 
Treason  has  done  his  worst :  nor  steel,  nor  poison. 
Malice  domestic,  foreign  levy,  nothing, 
Can  touch  him  further.  M.  iii.  2. 

Had  I  but  died  an  hour  before  this  chance, 

I  had  liv'd  a  blessed  time,  for,  from  this  instant, 

There's  nothing  serious  in  mortality.  M.  ii.  3 

Give  me  your  hand,  Bassanio  ;  fare  you  well  ? 

Grieve  not  that  I  am  fallen  to  this  for  you ; 

For  herein  Fortune  shows  herself  more  kind 

Than  is  her  custom  :  it  is  still  her  use, 

To  let  the  wretched  man  outlive  his  wealth, 

To  view  with  hollow  eye  and  wrinkled  brow, 

An  age  of  poverty ;  from  which  ling' ring  penance 

Of  such  a  misery  doth  she  cut  me  off.  M.  V.  iv.  I 

Why,  he  that  cuts  off  twenty  years  of  life, 

Cuts  off  as  many  years  of  fearing  death.  J.C.  iii.  I. 

UNTIMELY. 

Cut  off  even  in  the  blossoms  of  my  sin, 

Unhousel'd,  disappointed,  unanel'd ; 

No  reckoning  made,  but  sent  to  my  account 

With  all  my  imperfections  on  my  head.  ff.  I.  5 

DEATH  BED  INJUNCTION. 

0,  but  they  say,  the  tongues  of  dying  men 

Enforce  attention  like  deep  harmony : 

Where  words  are  scarce,  they're  seldom  spent  in  vaiu  : 

For  they  breathe  truth,  that  breathe  their  words  in  paia 

He,  that  no  more  may  say,  is  listen'd  more 

Than  they  whom  youth  and  ease  have  taught  to  gloze 
More  are  men's  ends  mark'd  than  their  lives  before  , 


DBA       IjjflfospBflriait  Dirtionnn).        DEI 

DEATH  BED  INJUNCTION, — continued. 

The  setting  sun,  and  music  at  the  close, 
As  the  last  taste  of  sweets,  is  sweetest  last ; 
Writ  in  remembrance,  more  than  things  long  past : 
Though  Richard  my  life's  counsel  would  not  hear, 
My  death's  sad  tale  may  yet  undeaf  his  ear.        7?.  //.  ii.  1 

DEBT. 

They  have  e'en  put  my  breath  from  me,  the  slaves  ; 
Creditors ! — devils.  T.  A.  iii.  4, 

DEBTS,  DESPERATE. 

These  debts   may  well   be  call'd  desperate   ones,  for  i 
madman  owes  'em.  T.  A.  iii.  4. 

DECAY. 

My  way  of  life 
Is  fall'n  into  the  sear,  the  yellow  leaf.  M.  T.  2 

DECEIT. 

You  are  abus'd,  and,  by  some  putter  on 

That  will  be  damn'd  for't ; — would  I  knew  the  villain 

W.  T.  ii.  1 

Who  builds  his  hope  in  air  of  your  fair  looks, 
Lives  like  a  drunken  sailor  on  a  mast.  R.  III.  iii.  4 

DECREPITUDE. 

You  see  me  here,  you  gods,  a  poor  old  man, 

As  full  of  grief  as  age ;  wretched  in  both.  K.  L.  ii.  4 

I  am  old  now, 

And  these  same  crosses  spoil  me.  K.  L.  v.  3 

Pray  do  not  mock  me : 
I  ain  a  very  foolish  fond  old  man, 
Fourscore  and  upward ;  and  to  deal  plainly, 
I  fear  I  am  not  in  my  perfect  mind.  K.  L.  iv.  7, 

But  on  us  both  did  haggish  age  steal  on, 
And  wore  us  out  of  act.  A.  W.  i.  2 

DEFEATED. 

Thou  art  not  vanquish'd. 
But  cozen'd  and  beguil'd.  K.  L.  v.  3 

DEFIANCE. 

Defiance,  traitors,  hurl  we  in  your  teeth.  J.C.  T.  1 

Marry, 

Thou,  thou  dost  wrong  me  ;  thou  dissembler,  thcu : — 
Nay,  never  lay  thy  hand  upon  thy  sword, 
I  fear  thee  not.  M.  A.  T.  1 

What  man  dare,  I  dare  : 
Approach  thou  like  the  rugged  Russian  tear,. 


DEF        $jjabspmifln  IHrtinnanj. 

DEFIANCE,— continued. 

The  arm'd  rhinoceros,  or  the  Hyrcan  tyger, 

Take  any  snape  but  that,  and  my  firm  nerves 

Shall  never  tremble :  Or,  be  alive  again, 

And  dare  me  to  the  desert  with  thy  sword ; 

If  trembling  I  inhibit  thee,  protest  me 

The  baby  of  a  girl.  M.  iii.  4, 

And  spur  thee  on,  with  full  as  many  lies 

As  may  be  holla'd  in  thy  treacherous  ear 

From  sun  to  sun.  R.  IL  iv.  1 

Stand  back,  lord  Salisbury,  stand  back,  I  say ; 

By  heaven,  I  think  my  sword  as  sharp  as  yours : 

I  would  not  have  you,  lord,  forget  yourself, 

Nor  tempt  the  danger  of  my  true  defence  ; 

Lest  I,  by  marking  of  your  rage,  forget 

Your  worth,  your  greatness,  and  nobility.  K.  J.  iv.  3. 

Who  sets  me  else  ?  by  heaven,  I'll  throw  at  all : 

I  have  a  thousand  spirits  in  one  breast, 

To  answer  twenty  thousand  such  as  you.  R.  II.  iv.  1. 

Health  to  you,  valiant  Sir, 

During  all  the  question  of  the  gentle  truce  ; 

But  when  I  meet  you  arm'd,  as  black  defiance, 

As  heart  can  think,  or  courage  execute.  T.C.  iv.  1 

Win  me  and  wear  me, — let  him  answer  me, — 

Come,  follow  me,  boy  ;  come,  boy,  follow  me  : 

Sir  boy,  I'll  whip  you  from  your  foining  fence  : 

Nay,  as  I  am  a  gentleman,  I  will.  M.  A.  v.  1. 

"What  I  did,  I  did  m  honour, 
Led  by  the  impartial  conduct  of  my  soul ; 
And  never  shall  you  see  that  I  will  beg 
A  ragged  and  forestall'd  remission.  H.  IV.  PT.  n.  v.  2. 

There  is  my  gage,  the  manual  seal  of  death, 
That  marks  thee  out  for  hell :  I  say,  thou  liest, 
And  will  maintain  what  thou  hast  said,  is  false, 
In  thy  heart  blood,  though  being  all  too  base 
To  stain  the  temper  of  my  knightly  sword.          R.  IL  iv  1, 
If  that  thy  valour  stand  on  sympathies, 
There  is  my  gage,  Aumerle,  in  gage  to  thine : 
By  that  fair  sun  which  shows  me  where  thou  stand'st, 
I  heard  thee  say,  and  vauntingly  thou  spak'st  it, 
That  thou  wert  cause  of  noble  Glo'ster's  Jeatb. 
If  thou  dcny'st  it,  twenty  times  thou  liest; 
And  T  will  turn  thy  falsehood  to  thy  heart, 
Where  it  was  forged,  with  my  rapier's  point.       R.  II.  iv.  1. 
Shall  I  be  flouted  thus  with  dunghill  grooms  I 

H.TL  PI.  i.  i.  I. 


DEF       &jjnkfsju?imiiu  Uirtiauarij.       DEI 

DEFIANCE,— continued, 

Scorn,  and  defiance  ;  slight  regard,  contempt, 

And  any  thing  that  may  not  misbecome 

Th3  mighty  sender,  doth  he  prize  you  at.  H.  V.  ii.  4 

Though  I  am  not  splenetive  and  rash, 
Yet  have  I  in  me  something  dangerous, 
Which  let  thy  wisdom  fear.  H.  v.  1. 

1  had  rather  chop  this  hand  off  at  a  blow, 
And  with  the  other  fling  it  at  thy  face, 
Than  bear  so  low  a  sail  to  strike  to  thee. 

H.Vl.  FT.  III.  V.  1, 

I  will  fight  with  him  upon  this  theme, 
Until  my  eye-lids  will  no  longer  wag.  H.  v.  1, 

Let  them  pronounce  the  steep  Tarpeian  death, 
Vagabond  exile,  flaying ;  pent  to  linger 
But  with  a  grain  a  day,  I  would  not  buy 
Their  mercy  at  the  price  of  one  fair  word.  C.  iii.  3. 

You  fools  1  I  and  my  fellows 
Are  ministers  of  fate  ;  the  elements 
Of  whom  your  swords  are  tempor'd,  may  as  well 
Wound  the  loud  winds,  or  with  bemock'd-at  stabs 
Kill  the  still-closing  waters,  as  diminish 
One  dowle  that's  in  my  plume.  T.  iii  3 

Thou  injurious  tribune ! 

Within  thine  eyes  sat  twenty  thousand  deaths, 
In  thy  hands  clutch'd  as  many  millions,  in 
Thy  lying  tongue  both  numbers,  I  would  say, 
Thou  liest,  unto  thee,  with  voice  as  free 
As  I  do  pray  the  gods.  G.  iii.  1 

Let  them  come ; 

They  come  like  sacrifices  in  their  trim, 
And  to  the  fire-ey'd  maid  of  smoky  war, 
All  hot  and  bleeding  will  we  offer  them  ; 
The  mailed  Mars  shall  on  his  altar  sit 
Up  to  the  ears  in  blood.  H.  IV.  PT.  i.  IT.  1 

I  do  defy  him,  and  I  spit  at  him  ; 

Call  him  a  slanderous  coward,  and  a  villain.         R.  Il.\,\ 

Gentle  heaven, 

Cut  off  all  intermission ;  front  to  front, 
Bring  thou  this  fiend  of  Scotland,  and  myself; 
Within  my  sword's  length  set  him  ;  if  he  'scape, 
Heaven  forgive  him  too  1  M.  iv.  3 

Let  him  do  his  spite  : 

My  services,  which  I  have  done  the  signiory 

Shall  out-tongue  his  complaints.  0.  i.  % 


DBF       tjiaktitttfitiifl  iuttouan;.      PEG 


DEFORMITY. 

Why,  love  forswore  me  in  my  mother's  womb  : 

And,  for  I  should  not  deal  in  her  soft  laws, 

She  did  corrupt  frail  nature  with  a  bribe 

To  shrink  mine  arm  up  like  a  wither'd  shrub  ; 

To  make  an  envious  mountain  on  my  back, 

WLere  sits  deformity  to  mock  my  body  ; 

To  shape  my  legs  of  an  unequal  size  ; 

To  disproportion  me  in  every  part  ; 

Like  to  a  chaos,  or  an  uulick'd  bear-whelp, 

That  carries  no  impression  like  the  dam. 

And  am  I  then  a  man  to  be  belov'd  ? 

0,  monstrous  fault  to  harbour  such  a  thought  ! 

H.VL  PT.  in.  iii.  i 

But  I,  —  that  am  not  shap'd  for  sportive  tricks, 
Nor  made  to  court  an  amorous  looking  glass  , 
I  that  am  rudely  stampt,  and  want  love's  majesty, 
To  strut  before  a  wanton  ambling  nymph  ; 

1,  that  am  curtail'd  of  this  fair  proportion, 
Cheated  of  feature  by  dissembling  nature, 
Deform'd,  unfinish'd,  sent  before  my  time 

Into  this  breathing  world,  scarce  half  made  up, 

And  that  so  lamely  and  unfashionable, 

That  dogs  bark  at  me  as  I  halt  by  them  :  — 

Why  I,  in  this  weak  piping  time  of  peace, 

Have  no  delight  to  pass  away  the  time, 

Unless  to  spy  my  shadow  in  the  sun, 

And  descant  on  mine  own  deformity.  R.  777,  i.  1. 

But,  0,  how  vile  an  idol  proves  this  god  I 

Thou  hast,  Sebastian,  done  good  feature  shame. 

In  nature  there's  no  blemish  but  the  mind  ; 

None  can  be  call'd  deform'  d  but  the  unkind  : 

Virtue  is  beauty  ;  but  the  beauteous  evil 

Are  empty  trunks,  o'er-flourish'd  by  the  devil.    T.  N.  iii.  4, 

DEGENERACY. 

But,  woe  the  while  !  our  fathers'  minds  are  dead, 

And  we  are  govern'd  by  our  mothers'  spirits  ; 

Our  yoke  and  sufferance  show  us  womanish.  J.C.  i.  3. 

0,  that  a  mighty  man  of  such  descent, 

Of  such  possessions,  and  so  high  esteem, 

Should  be  infused  with  so  foul  a  spirit  !  T.  S.  Ln>.  2. 

What  a  falling  off  was  there  1  H.  i  5 

But  now  'tis  odds  beyond  arithmetic  ; 

And  manhood  is  call'd  foolery,  when  it  stands 

Against  a  falling  fabric.  C.  iii.  1 


DEO       ^jjjikfapnrinn  SiriinHarij.       DEL 

DEGENERACY,— continued. 

For  in  the  fatness  of  these  pursy  times, 
Virtue  itself  of  vice  must  pardon  beg.  H.  iii.  4. 

'Twas  never  merry  world,  since,  of  two  usuries,  the  mer- 
riest was  put  down,  and  the  worser  allowed,  by  order  of 
law,  a  furred  gown  to  keep  him  warm  ;  and  furred  with  fox 
and  lambskins  too,  to  signify  that  craft,  being  richer  than 
innocency,  stands  for  the  facing.  M.M.  iii.  2. 

Shall  it,  for  shame,  be  spoken  in  these  days, 
Or  fill  up  chronicles  in  time  to  come, 
That  men  of  your  nobility  and  power, 
Did  'gage  them  both  in  an  unjust  behalf, — 
As  both  of  you,  God  pardon  it !  have  done  ? 

H.  IF.  FT.  i.  i.  3 
The  world  is  grown  so  bad, 

That  wrens  may  prey  where  eagles  dare  not  perch ; 
Since  every  Jack  became  a  gentleman, 
There's  many  a  gentle  person  made  a  Jack.        R.  in.  i.  3. 

DEGRADATION. 

Now  I  must 

To  the  young  man  send  humble  treaties,  dodge 
And  palter  in  the  shifts  of  lowness.  A.  C.  iii.  9 

DEGREES. 

So  man  and  man  should  be ; 

But  clay  and  clay  differs  in  dignity 

Whose  dust  is  both  alike.  Cym.  iv.  2. 

DELAY  (See  also  IRRESOLUTION,  OPPORTUNITY). 
Omission  to  do  what  is  necessary 
Seals  a  commission  to  a  blank  of  danger ; 
And  danger,  like  an  ague,  subtly  taints 
Ev'n  then  when  we  sit  idly  in  the  sun.  T.C.  iii.  3. 

Sir,  in  delay 

We  waste  our  lights  in  vain,  like  lamps  by  day.     R.  J.  i.  4. 

Come, — I  have  learn'd  that  fearful  commenting 

Is  leaden  servitor  to  dull  delay  ; 

Delay  leads  impotent  and  snail-pac'd  beggary. 

R.m.  iv.  3, 

Let's  be  revenged  on  him ;  let's  appoint  him  a  meeting  , 
give  him  a  show  of  comfort  in  his  suit ;  and  lead  him  on 
with  a  fine-baited  delay.  M.  W.  ii.  1. 

0,  my  good  lord,  that  comfort  comes  too  late ; 
'Tis  like  a  pardon  after  execution  ; 
That  gentle  physic,  given  in  time,  had  cur'd  me  ; 
But  now  I'm  past  all  comfort  here,  but  prayers. 

H.  nn.  IT.  i 

w 


DEL       IjraktSfrififl  iirtiniiarq.       DEI 

DELICACY  OP  IDLENESS. 

The  hand  oi  little  employment  hath  the  daintier  sense. 

tf.Y.  L 

DELIGHTS. 

All  delights  are  vain  ;  but  that  most  vain, 

Which,  with  pain  purchas'd,  doth  inherit  pain.     L.  L.  i.  1. 

These  violent  delights  have  violent  ends, 

And  in  their  triumph  die ;  like  fire  and  powder, 

"Which,  as  they  kiss,  consume  ;  the  sweetest  honey 

Is  loathsome  in  its  own  deliciousness, 

And  in  the  taste  confounds  the  appetite : 

Therefore,  love  moderately ;  long  love  doth  so  ; 

Too  swift  arrives  as  tardy  as  too  slow.  R,  J.  ii.  fl. 

DELIRIUM  OF  THE  DYING. 

0  vanity  of  sickness  1  fierce  extremes, 

In  their  continuance  will  not  feel  themselves. 

Death,  having  prey'd  upon  the  outward  parts, 

Leaves  them  insensible  ;  and  his  siege  is  now 

Against  the  mind,  the  which  he  pricks  and  wounds 

With  many  legions  of  strange  fantasies  ; 

Which,  in  their  throng  and  press  to  that  last  hold, 

Confound  themselves.     'Tis  strange  that  death  should  sing. 

1  am  the  cygnet  to  this  pale-fac'd  swan, 

Who  chaunts  a  doleful  hymn  to  his  own  death  ; 

And,  from  the  organ-pipe  of  frailty,  sings 

His  soul  and  body  to  their  lasting  rest.  K.  J.  r.  7. 

DELUSION  (See  also  ILLUSION). 

'Twas  but  a  bolt  of  nothing,  shot  at  nothing, 

Which  the  brain  makes  of  fumes :  our  very  eyes 

Are  sometimes  like  our  judgments,  blind.  Gym.  iv.  2. 

Oftentimes,  to  win  us  to  our  harm, 
The  instruments  of  darkness  tell  us  truths  ; 
Win  us  with  honest  trifles,  to  betray  us 
In  deepest  consequence.  M.  i.  3. 

And  be  these  juggling  fiends  no  more  believM, 
That  palter  with  us  in  a  double  sense  ; 
That  keep  the  word  of  premise  to  our  ear, 
And  break  it  to  our  hope.  M.  v.  7. 

Why,  thou  hast  put  him  in  such  a  dream,  that,  when  the 
image  of  it  leaves  him,  he  must  run  mad.  T.  N.  ii.  5 

Thus  may  poor  fools  believe  false  teachers.         Cym.  in.  4. 

This  is  the  very  coinage  of  your  brain  ; 
This  bodiless  creation  extaoy 

IB  very  cunning  in.  H.  UL  4, 

»  8* 


DEL       ijjnkrsjjrnnnn  Bittinnnrq. 

DE  LU  SIGN,— continued. 

Alas,  how  is't  with  you  ? 

That  you  do  bond  your  eyes  on  vacancy, 

And  with  the  incorporal  air  do  hold  discourse  ?       H.  lii.  4 

It  will  but  skin  and  tilin  the  ulcerous  place  ; 

Whiles  rank  corruption,  mining  all  within, 

Infects  unseen.  H.  Hi.  -4 

Indeed,  it  is  a  strange  disposed  time  : 

But  men  may  construe  things  after  their  fashion, 

Clean  from  the  purpose  of  the  things  themselves. 

J.C.  i.  3. 

DENIAL  OF  JUSTICE  (See  also  JUDGMENT,  JUSTICE). 
And  is  this  all  ? 

Then,  oh,  you  blessed  ministers  above, 
Keep  me  in  patience  ;  and,  with  ripen'd  time, 
Unfold  the  evil  which  is  here  wrapp'd  up 
In  countenance  !  M.  M.  V.  I 

DEPRAVITY,  YOUTHFUL. 

You're  a  fair  viol,  and  your  sense  the  strings ; 

Who,  fingcr'd  to  make  man  his  lawful  music, 

Would  draw  heaven  down,  and  all  the  gods  to  hearken ; 

But,  being  play'd  upon  before  your  time, 

Hell  only  danceth  at  so  harsh  a  chime.  P.  P.  i.  1, 

DEPRIVATION  OF  THINGS  DISCLOSES  THEIR  VALUE. 
What  our  contempts  do  often  hurl  from  us, 
We  wish  it  ours  again.  A.C.  i.  2. 

DEPUTY. 

A  substitute  shines  brightly  as  a  king, 

Until  a  king  be  by  ;  and  then  his  state 

Empties  itself,  as  doth  an  inland  brook 

Into  the  main  of  waters.  M.  V.  v.  1. 

In  our  remove,  be  thou  at  full  ourself ; 

Mortality  and  mercy  in  Vienna 

Live  in  thy  tongue  and  heart.  M.  Jf.  i.  1. 

DERANGEMENT,  MENTAL  (See  also  DESPONDENCY,  MADNESS). 
A  sight  most  pitiful  in  the  meanest  wretch  ; 
Past  speaking  of  in  a  king.  K.  L.  iv.  6. 

DESCRIPTION. 

I  have  cried  her  almost  to  the  nuaber  of  her  hairs;  ] 
have  drawn  her  picture  with  my  voice.  P.  P.  iv.  3. 

0,  he  hath  drawn  my  oicture  in  his  letter !  L.  L.  v.  2 

DESDEMONA. 

A  maid 
That  paragons  description,  and  wild  fame  ; 

90 


DES       IJjnlUBjimiati  Ikttmif,       DES 

DESDEMONA,-  -continued. 

One  that  excels  the  quirks  of  blazoning  pens, 

And  in  the  essential  vesture  of  creation, 

Does  bear  all  excellency.  O.  ii.  1. 

Tempests  themselves,  high  seas,  and  howling  winds, 

The  gutter'd  rocks,  and  congregated  sands, — 

Traitors  ensteep'd  to  clog  the  guiltless  keel, — 

As  having  sense  of  beauty,  do  omit 

Their  mortal  natures,  letting  go  safely  by 

The  divine  Desdemona.  0.  ii.  1. 

DESERT. 

Use  every  man  according  to  his  desert,  and  who  shall 
escape  whipping  ?  use  them  after  your  own  honour  and 
dignity  :  the  less  they  deserve,  the  more  merit  is  in  your 
bounty.  H.  ii.  2. 

0,  your  desert  speaks  bud  ;  and  I  should  wrong  it, 
To  lock  it  in  the  wards  of  covert  bosom, 
When  it  deserves,  with  characters  of  brass, 
A  forted  residence,  'gainst  the  tooth  of  time, 
And  razure  of  oblivion.  M.  M.  v.  1. 

But  let  desert  in  pure  election  shine.  Tit.  And.  i.  1. 

DESERTION. 

Him  did  you  leave, 
Second  to  none,  unseconded  by  you.         H.  IF.  PT.  ii.  ii.  2. 

DESIGNATION. 

We  call  a  nettle  but  a  nettle ;  and 

The  faults  of  fools  but  folly.  C.  ii.  1. 

DESIRE. 

The  cloyed  will 

(That  satiate  yet  unsatisfied  desire, 

That  tub  both  fill'd  and  running)  ravening  first 

The  lamb,  longs  after  for  the  garbage.  Gym.  i.  7. 

Happy  !  but  most  miserable 
Is  the  desire  that's  glorious.     Blessed  be  those, 
How  mean  soe'er,  that  have  their  honest  wills 
Which  seasons  comfort.  Cym.  1. 7. 

DESOLATION. 

I,  an  old  turtle, 

Will  wing  me  to  some  wither'd  bough ;  and  there 
My  mate,  that's  never  to  be  found  again, 
Lament  till  I  am  lost.  W.T.  I.  3 

Then  was  I  as  a  tree 

Whose  boughs  did  bend  with  fruit ;  but  in  one  night, 
A  storm,  or  robbery,  call  it  what  you  will. 


DES       f|iktifmiii  Diittnirnnj.       DE& 

DESOLATION,— continued. 

Shook  down  my  mellow  hangings,  nay,  my  leaves, 

And  left  me  bare  to  wither.  Cym.  iii.  3. 

Shipwreck'd  upon  a  kingdom,  where  no  pity, 

No  friends,  no  hope  ;  no  kindred  weep  for  me, 

Almost  no  grave  allow' d  me  ;— like  the  lily, 

That  once  was  mistress  of  the  field,  and  flourish'd, 

I'll  hang  my  head  and  perish.  H.  VIII.  iii.  1, 

Alack,  and  what  shall  good  old  York  there  see, 

But  empty  lodgings  and  unfurnish'd  walls, 

Unpeopled  offices,  untrodden  stones  ? 

And  what  cheer  there  for  welcome  but  my  groans  ? 

Therefore  commend  me,  let  him  not  come  there^ 

To  reek  out  sorrow  that  dwells  every  where  : 

Desolate,  desolate,  will  I  hence  and  die  ; 

The  last  leave  of  thee  takes  my  weeping  eye.       R.  II.  i.  2 

DESPAIR. 

There's  nothing  in  this  world  can  make  me  joy  ; 

Life  is  as  tedious  as  a  twice  told  tale, 

Vexing  the  dull  ear  of  a  drowsy  man.  K.  J.  iii.  4 

I  will  despair,  and  be  at  enmity 

With  cozening  hope  ;  he  is  a  flatterer, 

A  parasite,  a  keeper  back  of  death, 

Who  gently  would  dissolve  the  bands  of  life, 

Which  false  hope  lingers  in  extremity.  R.  II.  ii.  2. 

Now  let  not  Nature's  hand 
Keep  the  wild  flood  confin'd  !     Let  order  die ! 
And  let  this  world  no  longer  be  a  stage, 
To  feed  contention  in  a  lingering  act ; 
But  let  one  spirit  of  the  first-born  Cain 
Reign  in  all  bosoms,  that,  each  heart  being  set 
On  bloody  courses,  the  rude  scene  may  end, 
And  darkness  be  the  burier  of  the  dead.     H.  IV.  PT.  11.  i.  1. 

0  sovereign  mistress  of  true  melancholy, 

The  poisonous  damp  of  might  disponge  upon  me  ; 

That  life,  a  very  rebel  to  my  will, 

May  hang  no  longer  on  me  ;  throw  my  heart 

Against  the  flint  and  hardness  of  my  fault ; 

Which,  being  dried  with  grief,  will  break  to  pcwier, 

And  finish  all  foul  thoughts.  A.  C.  iv.  9. 

1  pull  in  resolution  ;  and  begin 

To  doubt  the  equivocation  of  th    fiend, 

That  lies  like  truth.  M.  v.  5 

0, 1  am  fortune's  fool  1  K  /.  Ui.  L 


DBS       #{iflh0pmiaii  fHrtinnartj.        DBS 

DESPAIR,— continued. 

I  shall  despair. — There  is  no  creature  loves  me ; 

And,  if  I  die,  no  soul  will  pity  me ; — 

Nay,  wherefore  should  they  ?  since  that  I  myself 

Find  in  myself  no  pity  to  myself.  R.  III.  v,  S 

For  now  I  stand  as  one  upon  a  rock, 

Environ'd  with  a  wilderness  of  sea  ; 

Who  marks  the  waxing  tide  grow  wave  by  wave, 

Expecting  ever  when  some  envious  surge 

Will,  in  his  brinish  bowels,  swallow  him.      Tit.  And.  iii.  1 

They  have  tied  me  to  the  stake,  I  cannot  fly, 

But,  bear-like,  I  must  fight  the  course.  M.  v.  7. 

Take  the  hint 

Which  my  despair  proclaims  ;  let  that  be  left 
Which  leaves  itself.  A.C.  iii.  9. 

I  'gin  to  be  a-weary  of  the  sun, 

And  wish  the  estate  of  the  world  were  now  undone.  M.  v.  5. 
Your  enemies,  with  nodding  of  their  plumes, 
Fan  you  into  despair.  C.  iii.  3. 

My  very  hairs  do  mutiny  ;  for  the  white 
Reprove  the  brown  for  rashness  ;  and  they  them 
For  fear  and  doting.  A.C.  iii.  9. 

DESPATCH. 

If  it  were  done,  when  'tis  done,  then  'twere  well 
It  were  done  quickly.  M.  i.  7. 

Come,  to  the  forge  with  it  then;  shape  it;  I  would  not 
have  things  cool.  M.  W.  iv.  2. 

It  makes  us,  or  it  mars  us ;  think  on  that, 
And  fix  most  firm  thy  resolution.  0.  v.  1. 

Briefness,  and  fortune,  work.  K,  L.  ii.  1. 

We  must  do  something,  and  i'  the  heat.  K.  L.  i.  1. 

DESPERATION. 

Some  say  he's  mad  ;  others,  that  lesser  hate  him, 

Do  call  it  valiant  fury ;  but  for  certain, 

He  cannot  buckle  his  distemper'd  cause 

Within  the  belt  of  rule.  M.  r.  2. 

Fortune  knows, 
We  scorn  her  most  when  most  she  offers  blows.  A.C.  iii.  9. 

Whip  me,  ye  devils, 

From  the  possession  of  this  heavenly  sight ! 
Blow  me  about  in  winds  !  roast  me  in  sulphur  I 
Wash  me  in  steep-down  gulfs  of  liquid  fire  I 
0  Desdemona  I  0.  ?.  2 


DBS        lltnkBsjirnnnii  Dirtinnnnj.        DBS 


D  ESPERATION,— continued. 

Our  enemies  have  beat  us  to  the  pit : 

It  is  more  worthy  to  leap  in  ourselves, 

Than  tarry  till  they  push  us.  J.C.  v.  5. 

Yet  I  will  try  the  last :  Before  my  body 

1  throw  my  warlike  shield ;  lay  on,  Macduff; 

And  dainn'd  be  he  that  first  cries  "  Hold  !  Enough  !" 

M.  v.  7. 

lling  the  alarum  bell :  Blow  wind,  come  wrack  ! 
At  least  we'll  die  with  harness  on  our  back.  M.  v.  5. 

The  time  and  my  intents  are  savage  wild  ; 
More  tierce  and  more  inexorable  for 
Than  empty  tigers,  on  the  roaring  sea.  R.  J.  v.  3 

Now  could  I  drink  hot  blood, 
And  do  such  business  as  the  bitter  day 
Would  quake  to  look  on.  H.  iii.  2. 

No,  I  defy  all  counsel,  all  redress, 
But  that  which  ends  all  counsel,  true  redress, 
Death,  death.  K.  J.  iii.  4. 

0  all  you  host  of  heaven !  0  earth  I — what  else  ? 

And  shall  I  couple  hell  ? — 0  tie  ! — Hold,  hold,  my  heart ; 

And  you,  my  sinews,  grow  not  instant  old, 

But  bear  me  stiffly  up.  H.  i.  5. 

Ah,  women,  women  !  come ;  we  have  no  friend 

But  resolution  and  the  briefest  end.  A.O.  iv.  13. 

DESPONDENCY  (See  also  DERANGEMENT,  MADNESS). 

1  am  not  mad ;  I  would  to  heaven  I  were ! 
For  then,  'tis  like  I  should  forget  myself: 

0,  if  I  could,  what  grief  should  I  forget !  K.  J.  iii.  4. 

Preach  some  philosophy  to  make  me  mad, 

And  thou  shalt  be  canonized,  cardinal ; 

For,  being  not  mad,  but  sensible  of  grief, 

My  reasonable  part  produces  reason 

How  I  may  be  deliver' d  of  these  woes, 

And  teaches  me  to  kill  or  hang  myself.  K.  J.  iii.  4 

1  am  sick  of  this  false  world ;  and  will  love  nought 

But  even  the  mere  necessities  upon  it. 

Then,  Timou,  presently  prepare  thy  grave  ; 

Lie,  where  the  light  foam  of  the  sea  may  beat 

Thy  grave-stone  daily.  T.  A.  :v.  3 

How  stiff  is  my  vilo  sense, 
That  I  stand  up  and  have  ingenious  feeling 
Of  my  huge  sorrows  1  better  I  were  distract , 
So  should  my  thought*  be  sever'd  from  my  griefs ; 


DES          jaajimuii      ttinniin|.       DET 

DESPONDENO  i',— continued. 

And  woes,  by  wrong  imaginations,  lose 

The  knowledge  of  themselves.  K.  L.  iv.  6 

O,  that  this  too,  too  solid  flesh  would  melt, 

Thaw,  and  resolve  itself  into  a  dew  1 

Or,  that  the  everlasting  had  not  fix'd 

His  canon  'gainst  self-slaughter  I    0  God  1  0  God  1 

How  weary,  stale,  flat,  and  unprofitable, 

Seem  to  mo  all  the  uses  of  this  world  1 

Fie  on't  1  fie  on't  1  'tis  an  unweeded  garden, 

That  grows  to  seed  ;  things  rank,  and  gross  in  nature, 

Possess  it  merely.  H.  i.  2. 

Even  here  I  will  put  off  my  hope,  and  keep  it 

No  longer  for  my  flatterer.  T.  iii.  3. 

I  have  not  that  alacrity  of  spirit 

Nor  cheer  of  mind  that  I  was  wont  to  have.       R.  HL  v.  3 

Nothing  I'll  bear  from  thee 
But  nakedness,  thou  detestable  town  1 
Timon  will  to  the  woods ;  where  he  shall  find 
The  un  kindest  beast  more  kinder  than  mankind. 

T.  A.  iv.  1. 

What  say  you  now  ?  what  comfort  have  we  now  ? 
By  heaven,  I'll  hate  him  everlastingly, 
That  bids  me  be  of  comfort  any  more.  R.  II.  iii.  2. 

DESTINY. 

All  unavoided  is  the  doom  of  destiny.  B.  III.  iv.  4. 

The  lottery  of  my  destiny 

Bars  me  the  right  of  voluntary  choosing  M.  V.  ii.  1. 

The  antient  saying  is  no  heresy  : — 

Hanging  and  wiving  go  by  destiny.  M.  V.  ii.  9. 

'Tis  destiny  unshunnable,  like  death.  0.  iii.  3. 

DESTITUTION. 

Who  gives  any  thing  to  poor  Tom  T  K.  L.  iii.  4. 

DETERIORATION. 

When  nobles  are  their  tailors'  tutors.  R.  L.  iii.  2. 

The  man  was  noble, 

But  with  his  last  attempt  he  wip'd  it  out.  O.  v.  3. 

DETERMINATION  (See  also  RESOLUTION). 
I  have  given  suck ;  and  know 
Uow  tender  'tis,  to  love  the  babe  that  milks  me : 
I  would,  while  it  was  smiling  in  my  face, 
Have  pluck'd  my  nipple  from  his  boneless  gums, 
And  dash'd  the  brains  out,  had  I  so  sworn  as 
YUU  have  done  to  this.  4£  i»  7 

II 


DET       f  jjaluspmiflfl  Dirtinnartj. 


DETERMINATION,—  continued. 

I'll  speak  to  it,  though  hell  itself  should  gape, 

And  bid  me  hold  my  peace.  H.  i.  2. 

Cannot,  is  false  ;  and  that  I  dare  not,  falser  ; 

I  will  not  come  to-day  :  tell  them  so,  Decius.          J.C.  ii.  2 

Shall  I  stay  here  to  do't  ;  no,  no,  although 

The  air  of  paradise  did  fan  the  house, 

And  angels  offic'd  all  :  I  will  be  gone.  A.  W.  iii.  2. 

It  was  my  will  and  grant  ; 
And  for  this  once,  my  will  shall  stand  for  law. 

H.VI.  FT.  iii.  iv.  1. 

Then  all  too  late  comes  counsel  to  be  heard, 
Where  will  doth  mutiny  with  wit's  regard.  R.H.  ii.  1. 

My  resolution,  and  my  hands  I'll  trust  ; 
None  about  Caesar.  A.  C.  iv.  13. 

I  am  fire  and  air  ;  my  other  elements 
I  give  to  baser  life.  A.C.  v.  2. 

DETRACTION. 

Ay,  an   you  had   any  eye    behind  you,  you   might  see 
more  detraction  at  your  heels  than  fortunes  before  you. 

T.  N.  ii.  5. 

Happy  are    they  that   hear   their  detractions,  and   put 
them  to  mending.  M.  A.  ii.  3. 

DEVICE. 

What  a  slave  art  thou  to  hack  thy  sword  as  thou  hast 
done  ;  and  then  say,  it  was  in  fight  I          H.  IV,  FT.  i.  ii.  4 

DEVIL. 

Heaven  prosper  our  sport  \     No  one  means  evil  but  th« 
devil,  and  we  shall  know  him  by  his  horns.         M.  W.  v.  1 
A  devil,  a  born  devil,  on  whose  nature 
Nurture  can  never  stick  ;  on  whom  my  pains, 
Humanely  taken,  all,  all,  quite  lost  ; 
And  as,  with  age,  his  body  uglier  grows, 
So  his  mind  cankers.  T.  iv.  1 

DEVOTION. 

My  heart's  subdued 
Even  to  the  very  quality  of  my  lord  : 
I  saw  Othello's  visage  in  his  mind  ; 
And  to  his  honour  and  his  valiant  parts, 
Did  I  my  soul  and  fortunes  consecrate.  O.  i.  3 

My  best  attires  :  —  I  am  again  for  CydnuB, 
To  meet  Marc  Antony.  A.C.  v.  2. 

Yours  in  the  ranks  of  death,  K.  L.  iv  & 


OEV       £|fftitts]tmisB  Dhtiniiari|.       DIN 

DEVOTION,— wntimied. 

A  true  devoted  pilgrim  is  not  weary 

To  measure  kir.gdoms  with  his  feeble  steps.          T.8.  ii.  7 

Vouchsafe  to  show  the  sunshine  of  your  face, 

That  we,  like  savages,  may  worship  it.  L.  L.  v.  2. 

From  the  four  corners  of  the  earth  they  come, 

To  kiss  this  shrine,  this  mortal  breathing  saint. 

M.V.  ii.  7 


— — — —  Pious. 

With  modest  paces 

Came  to  the  altar,  where  she  kneel'd,  and  saint-like 
Cast  her  fair  eyes  to  heaven,  and  pray'd  devoutly. 

H.  VIU.lv.  1 

PEW. 

And  that  same  dew  which  sometime  on  the  buda 

Was  wont  to  swell,  like  round  and  orient  pearls, 

Stood  now  within  the  pretty  flow'ret's  eyes, 

Like  tears  that  did  their  own  disgrace  bewail.     M.  N.  iv.  1. 

I  must  go  seek  some  dew-drops  here, 

And  hang  a  pearl  on  every  cowslip's  ear.  M,  N.  ii.  1. 

As  fresh  as  morning  dew  distill'd  on  flowers. 

Til.  And.  ii.  4. 

DIFFIDENCE. 

A  tardiness  in  nature, 
Which  often  leaves  the  history  unspoke, 
That  it  intends  to  do.  K.  L.  i.  1. 

DIGNITY. 

Master  Robert  Shallow,  choose  what  office  thou  wilt  in 
the  land,  'tis  thine. — Pistol,  I  will  double  charge  thee  with 
dignities.  H.IV.  PT.  n.  v.  3 

Nothing  but  death, 
Shall  e'er  divorce  my  dignities.  H.  VIII.  iii.  1. 

DIGRESSION. 

Shifted  out  of  thy  tale,  into  telling  me  of  the  fashion. 

M.  A.  iii.  3. 

DILIGENCE. 

He'll  watch  the  horologe  a  double  set  0.  ii  3. 

DINNER. 

He  had  not  din'd : 

The  veins  unfill'd,  the  blood  is  cold,  and  then 
We  pout  upon  the  morning,  are  unapt 
To  give  or  to  forgive  ;  but  when  we  have  stufPd 
These  pipes  and  these  conveyances.  Qf  our  blood 


DIN        Ijmtoparhu  iirtiauan;,        DIS 

DINNER,— continued. 

With  wine  and  feeding,  we  have  suppler  souls 

Than  in  our  priest-like  fasts;  therefore  I'll  watih  him 

Till  he  be  dieted  to  my  request, 

And  then  I'll  set  upon  him.  O.  v.  1 

DIRGE. 

I  cannot  sing :  I'll  weep,  and  word  it  with  thee  ; 

For  notes  of  sorrow,  out  of  tune,  are  worse 

Than  priests  and  fanes  that  lie.  Cym.  iv.  2 

DISASTERS. 

Checks  and  disasters 

Grow  in  the  veins  of  actions  highest  rear'd  ; 
As  knots,  by  the  confldx  of  meeting  sap, 
Infect  the  sound  pine,  and  divert  his  grain 
Tortive  and  errant  from  his  course  and  growth.      T.  C.  i.  5. 

Why  then,  you  princes, 

Do  you  with  cheeks  abash'd  behold  our  works  ; 
And  think  them  shames,  which  are,  indeed,  nought  else, 
But  the  protractive  trials  of  great  Jove.  T.  C.  i.  3. 

DISCLOSURE. 

You  shall  see,  anon ;  'tis  a  knavish  piece  of  work. 

H.  iii.  2. 
DISCONTENT. 

What's  more  miserable  than  discontent  ? 

H.VL  pT.-n.ui.  1. 

Happiness  courts  thee  in  her  best  array  ; 

But  like  a  misbehav'd  and  sullen  wench, 

Thou  pout'st  upon  thy  fortune  and  thy  love : 

Take  heed,  take  heed,  for  such  die  miserable.       R.  J.  iii.  3. 

With  what  a  majesty  he  bears  himself; 

How  insolent  of  late  he  is  become, 

How  proud,  peremptory,  and  unlike  himself  I 

H.VL  FT.  n.  iii.  1. 

POPULAR. 

And  the  pretence  for  this 

Is  nam'd,  your  wars  in  France :  this  makes  bold  mouths ; 

Tongues  spit  their  duties  out,  and  cold  hearts  freeze 

Allegiance  in  them  ;  their  curses  now, 

Live  where  their  prayers  did ;  and  it's  come  to  pass, 

That  tractable  obedience  is  a  slave 

To  each  incensed  will.  H.  VTIL  i.  2, 

DISCRETION. 

For  'tis  not  good  that  children  should  know  any  wicked 
ness :  old  folks,  you  know,  have  discretion,  as  they  say,  and 
know  the  world.  M.  W.  U.  2- 


DIS        lijnbsjirflrinii  Sirtinnflrij.         DIS 
DISGUISE. 

Disguise,  I  see  thou  art  a  wickedness, 

Wherein  the  pregnant  enemy  does  much.  T.  N.  ii.  2. 

DISINTERESTEDNESS. 

0,  good  old  man,  how  well  in  thee  appears 

The  constant  service  of  the  antique  world, 

When  service  sweat  for  duty,  not  for  meed  ! 

Thou  art  not  for  the  fashion  of  these  times, 

Where  none  will  sweat  but  for  promotion  ; 

And  having  that,  do  choke  their  service  up, 

Even  with  the  having.  A.  Y.  ii.  3. 

DISLIKE. 

Alas,  I  had  rather  be  set  quick  i'  the  earth, 

And  bowFd  to  death  with  turnips.  M.  W.  Hi.  4. 

DISMAY  (See  also  FEAR,  TERROR). 

Thou  tremblest,  and  the  whiteness  in  thy  cheek 

Is  apter  than  thy  tongue  to  tell  thy  errand. 

Even  such  a  man,  so  faint,  so  spiritless, 

So  dull,  so  dead  in  look,  so  woe-begone, 

Drew  Priam's  curtain  in  the  dead  of  night, 

And  would  have  told  him  half  his  Troy  was  burn'd. 

But  Priam  found  the  fire,  ere  he  his  tongue. 

H.  IT.  PT.  n  I  i. 
Hia  death  (whose  spirit  lent  a  fire 
Even  to  the  dullest  peasant  in  his  camp,) 
Being  bruited  once,  took  fire  and  heat  away 
From  the  best  tempered  courage  in  his  troops ; 
For  from  his  metal  was  his  party  steel'd ; 
Which  once  in  him  abated,  all  the  rest 
Turn'd  on  themselves,  like  dull  and  heavy  lead. 
And  as  the  thing  that's  heavy  in  itself. 
Upon  enforcement,  flies  with  greater  speed ; 
So  did  our  men,  heavy  in  Hotspur's  loss, 
Lend  to  this  weight  such  lightness  with  their  fear. 
That  arrows  fled  not  swifter  toward  their  aim, 
'i  ban  did  our  soldiers,  aiming  at  their  safety, 
Fly  from  the  field.  H.  IF.  PT.  n.  i.  I 

DISMISSAL. 

Cassio,  I  love  thee  ; 

But  never  more  be  officer  of  mine.  O.  ii.  3. 

How  1  what  does  his  cashier'd  worship  mutter  f 

T.  A.  iii.  4. 

SILENT. 

Dismiss'd  me 
Thus  with  his  speechless  hand.  C  T.  L 

99 


DIS        IjfftkiifwiffJ  inthttflrij.       DIS 


DISORDER. 

But  they  did  no  more  adhere  and  keep  place  together, 
fchan  the  hundredth  psalm  to  the  tune  of  Green  Sleeves. 

M.W.  ii.  1. 
For  night  owls  shriek,  where  mounting  larks  should  sing. 

R.  II.  m.  3 
DISPERSION. 

Our  army  is  dispers'd  already  ; 

Like  youthful  steers  unyok'd,  they  take  their  courses 
East,  west,  north,  south  ;  or,  like  a  school  broke  up, 
Each  hurries  towards  his  home  and  sporting  place. 

H.  IV.  PT.  n.  iv.  2. 
DISPLEASURE,  RASH. 

Our  rash  faults 

Make  trivial  price  of  serious  things  we  have, 
Not  knowing  them  until  we  know  their  grave. 
Oft  our  displeasures,  to  ourselves  unjust, 
Destroy  our  friends,  and  after,  weep  their  dust  : 
Our  own  love  waking  cries  to  see  what's  done, 
While  shameful  hate  sleeps  out  the  afternoon.     A.  W.  v.  3 

DISPROPORTION. 

0,  the  more  angel  she, 
And  you  the  blacker  devil.  O.  v.  2. 

DISQUIET. 

Look  where  he  comes  I     Not  poppy,  nor  mandragora, 

Nor  all  the  drowsy  syrups  of  the  world, 

Shall  ever  med'cine  thee  to  that  sweet  sleep 

Which  thou  ow'dst  yesterday.  0.  iii.  3. 

Indeed,  indeed,  Sirs,  but  this  troubles  me.  //.  i.  2. 

DISSIMULATION  (See  HYPOCRISY,  QUOTING  SCRIPTURE). 

We  are  oft  to  blame  in  this  ;  — 
'Tis  too  much  proved,  —  that  with  devotion's  visage, 
And  pious  action,  we  do  sugar  o'er 
The  devil  himself.  //.  iii.  1. 

Divinity  of  hell  1 

When  devils  will  their  blackest  sins  put  on, 
They  do  suggest  at  first  with  heavenly  shows.          O.  ii.  3. 
If  I  do  not  put  on  a  sober  habit, 
Talk  with  respect,  and  swear  but  now  and  then, 
Wear  prayer-books  in  my  pocket,  look  demurely  ; 
Nay  more,  while  grace  is  saying,  hood  mine  e/es 
Tt  us  —  with  hat,  and  sigh,  and  say,  amen  ; 
Use  all  the  observance  of  civility, 
Like  one  well  studied  in  a  sad  ostent 
To  please  his  grandam,  never  trust  me  nore.        M.  V  K.  S. 

100 


DIS        $luik?0]irarian  Sir  tin  nan;.        DIS 

DISSIMULATION,— continued. 

Why,  I  can  smile,  and  murder  while  I  smile ; 

And  cry  content  to  that  which  grieves  my  heart ; 

And  wet  my  cheeks  with  artificial  tears, 

And  frame  my  face  to  all  occasions.        H.  VL  FT.  in.  iii.  2, 

Though  I  do  hate  him  as  I  do  hell  pains, 

Yet,  for  necessity  of  present  life, 

I  must  show  out  a  flag*  and  sign  of  love, 

Which  is  indeed  but  sign.  0.  i.  L 

Where  we  are 

There's  daggers  in  men's  smiles  ;  the  near  in  blood, 
The  nearer  bloody.  Jf.  ii.  3. 

In  following  him  I  follow  but  myself ; 

Heaven  is  my  judge,  not  I  for  love  or  duty, 

But  seeming  so,  for  my  peculiar  end : 

For  when  my  outward  action  doth  demonstrate 

The  native  act  and  figure  of  my  heart 

In  compliment  extern,  'tis  not  long  after, 

But  I  will  wear  my  heart  upon  my  sleeve, 

For  daws  to  peck  at.     I  am  not  what  I  am.  0.  i.  1. 

To  beguile  the  time, 

Look  like  the  time  ;  bear  welcome  in  your  eye, 
Your  hand,  your  tongue  :  look  like  the  innocent  flower, 
But  be  the  serpent  under  it.  M.  i.  5. 

Away,  and  mock  the  time  with  fairest  show, 

False  face  must  hide  what  the  false  heart  doth  know.    M.  i.  7 

Good  now,  play  one  scene, 
Of  exceHent  dissembling ;  and  let  it  look 
Like  perfect  honour.  A.C.'i.  3. 

Hide  not  thy  poison  with  such  sugar*  d  words. 

H.  VL  PT.  11.  iii.  2. 

And  with  a  countenance  as  clear 
As  friendship  wears  at  feasts.  W.  T.  L  2. 

You  vow,  and  swear,  and  super-praise  my  parts, 

When  I  am  sure  you  hate  me  in  your  hearts.      M.  N.  iii.  2 

As  I,  perchance,  hereafter  shall  think  meet 

To  put  an  antic  disposition  on.  H.  i.  5, 

DISTINCTION. 

Art  thou  officer, 
Or  art  thou  base,  3ommon,  and  popular  f  S.  V.  iv.  1 


UNBECOMING. 


It  lies  as  sightly  on  the  back  of  him, 
As  great  Alcides'  shoes  upon  an  ass.  K.  J.  ii.  1 

101  »• 


DOV 


DISTRACTION. 

Contending  with  the  fretful  elements  ; 

Bids  the  winds  blow  the  earth  into  the  sea, 

Or  swell  the  curled  waters  'bove  the  main, 

That  things  might  change  or  cease  :  tears  his  wh  ite  hair  , 

Which  the  impetuous  blasts,  with  eyeless  rage, 

Catch  in  their  fury  and  make  nothing  of: 

Strives  in  his  little  world  of  man  to  outscorn 

The  to-an-fro-conflicting  wind  and  rain.  K.L.  iii.  1, 

DISTRESS. 

The  thorny  point 

Of  bare  distress  hath  ta'en  from  me  the  show 
Of  smooth  civility.  A.  T.  ii.  7. 

DISTURBERS. 

Who  rather  had, 

Though  they  themselves  did  suffer  by't,  behold 
Dissentious  numbers  pestering  streets,  than  see 
Our  tradesmen  singing  in  their  shops,  and  going 
About  their  functions  freely.  C.  v.  b 

DISUNION. 

When  that  the  general  is  not  like  the  hive, 

To  whom  the  foragers  shall  all  repair, 

What  honey  is  expected  ?  T.  C.  i.  3, 

How,  in  one  house, 

Should  many  people,  under  two  commands, 
Hold  amity  ?     'Tis  hard,  almost  impossible.         K.  L.  ii.  4. 
DOOM. 

Away  I     By  Jupiter, 
This  shall  not  be  revok'd.  K.L.  i.  1 

DOTARD. 

The  brains  of  my  Cupid's  knock'd  o.ut  ;  and  1  begin  to 
love,  as  an  old  man  loves  money,  with  no  stomach. 

A.  W.  iii.  2 

DOVER  CLIFFS. 

How  fearful 

And  dizzy  'tis  to  cast  one's  eyes  below  I 
The  crows,  and  choughs,  that  wing  the  midway  air, 
Show  scarce  so  gross  as  beetles  :     Half  way  down 
Hangs  one  that  gathers  samphire  ;  dreadful  trade  1 
Methinks  he  seems  no  bigger  than  his  head  : 
The  fishermen,  that  walk  upon  the  beach, 
Appear  like  mice  ;  and  yon  tall  anchoring  bark, 
Diminieh'd  to  her  cock  ;  her  cock,  a  buoy, 
Almost  too  small  for  sight:     The  murm'ring  surge, 
That  on  the  unnumber'd  idle  pebbles  chafes, 

m 


DOV 


DOVER  CLIFFS,  —  continued. 

Cannot  be  heard  so  high  :  I'll  look  no  more  ; 

Lest  my  brain  turn,  and  the  deficient  sight 

Topple  down  headlong.  K,  L.  iv.  6. 

DRAMAS. 

The  best  of  this  kind  are  but  shadows  ;  and  the  worst 
are  no  worse,  if  imagination  amend  them.  M.  N.  v,  1. 

DREAMS. 

I  talk  of  dreams  ; 

Which  are  the  children  of  an  idle  brain, 
Begot  of  nothing  but  vain  fantasy  ; 
Which  is  as  thin  of  substance  as  the  air  ; 
And  more  inconstant  than  the  wind,  which  wooes 
Even  now  the  frozen  bosom  of  the  north, 
And,  being  anger'd,  puffs  away  from  thence, 
Turning  his  face  to  the  dew-dropping  south.  R.  J.  i.  4. 

I  have  had  a  ic'Nst  rare  vision.  I  have  had  a  dream  ;  — 
past  the  wit  of  man  to  say  what  dream  it  was.  Man  is 
but  an  ass  if  he  go  about  to  expound  this  dream. 

M.  N.  iv.  1 

'Tis  still  a  dream  ;  or  else  such  stuff  as  madmen 
Tongue  and  brain  out  :  either  both,  or  nothing  ; 
Or  senseless  speaking,  or  a  speaking  such 
As  sense  cannot  untie.     Be  what  it  is, 
The  action  of  my  life  is  like  it,  which 
I'll  keep,  if  but  for  sympathy.  Gym.  v.  -1 

By  the  apostle  Paul,  shadows  to-night 
Have  struck  more  terror  to  the  soul  of  Richard, 
Than  can  the  substance  of  ten  thousand  soldiers, 
Armed  in  proof,-  led  on  by  shallow  Richmond.     R.  III.  v.  3, 

Poor  wretches,  that  depend 
On  greatness'  favour,  dream  as  I  have  done, 
Awake,  and  find  nothing.  Cym.  v.  4 

This  is  the  rarest  dream  that  e'er  dull  sleep 
Did  mock  sad  fools  withal.  P.  P.  v.  1. 

In  thy  faint  slumbers,  I  by  thee  have  watch'd, 
And  heard  thee  murmur  tales  of  iron  wars  : 
Speak  terms  of  manage  to  thy  bounding  steed  ; 
Cry,  Courage!  —  to  the  field!     And  thou  hast  talk'd 
Of  sallies,  and  retires  ;  of  trenches,  tents, 
Of  palisadoes,  frontiers,  parapets  ; 
Of  basilisks,  of  cannon,  culverin  ; 
Of  prisoners'  ransom,  and  of  soldiers  slain, 
And  all  the  currents  of  a  heady  fight.        H.  IV.  ft  ;  ii.  $ 
.Thy  spirit  within  thee  hath  been  so  at  war, 


DRE          iaspmatt     nouart|.       DRE 

DREAMS,— continued. 

And  thus  hath  so  bestirr'd  thee  in  thy  sleep, 

That  beads  of  sweat  have  stood  upon  thy  brow, 

Like  bubbles  on  a  late  disturbed  stream  : 

And  in  thy  face  strange  motions  have  appear'd, 

Such  as  we  see  when  men  restrain  their  breath 

On  some  great  sudden  haste.  H.  IV.  PT.  i.  .i.  3 

There  is  some  ill  a-brewing  toward  my  rest, 

For  I  did  dream  of  money  bags  to-night.  M.  V.  ii.  5. 

Let  not  our  babbling  dreams  affright  our  souls.  R.  III.  v.  3 

There  are  a  kind  of  men  so  loose  of  soul, 

That  in  their  sleeps  will  mutter  their  affairs.  0.  iii.  8 

PRESS  (See  also  ADVICE  TO  A  YOUNG  MAN). 

For  'tis  the  mind  that  makes  the  body  rich  ; 

And  as  the  sun  breaks  through  the  darkest  clouds, 

So  honour  peereth  in  the  meanest  habit.  T.  S.  iv.  3. 

What,  is  the  jay  more  precious  than  the  lark, 

Because  his  feathers  are  more  beautiful  ? 

Or  is  the  adder  better  than  the  eel, 

Because  his  painted  skin  contents  the  eye  ?  T.  S.  iv.  3 

And  now,  my  honey  love, 
We  will  return  unto  thy  father's  house ; 
And  revel  it  as  bravely  as  the  best ; 
With  silken  coats,  and  caps,  and  golden  rings, 
With  ruffs,  and  cuffs,  and  farthingales,  and  things  : 
With  scarfs,  and  fane,  and  double  change  of  bravery, 
And  amber  bracelets,  beads,  and  all  this  knavery. 

The  tailor  stays  thy  leisure, 

To  deck  thy  body  with  his  rustling  treasure.         T.  S.  iv.  ? 
My  dukedom  to  a  beggarly  denier, 
I  do  mistake  my  person  all  this  while : 
Upon  my  life,  she  finds,  although  I  cannot, 
Myself  to  be  a  marvellous  proper  man. 
I'll  be  at  charges  for  a  looking-glass ; 
And  entertain  a  score  or  two  of  tailors, 
To  study  fashions  to  adorn  my  body. 
Since  I  am  crept  in  favour  with  myself, 
I  will  maintain  it  with  some  little  cost.  R.  III.  i.  2 

The  gown  ?  why,  ay  ; — Come,  tailor,  let  us  see't. 
0  mercy,  God !  what  masking  stuff  is  here  ? 
What's  this  ?  a  sleeve  ?  'tis  like  a  demi-cannon : 
What!  up  and  down,  3arv'd  like  an  apple-tart? 
Here's  snip,  and  nip,  and  cut,  and  slish,  and  slasL. 
Like  to  a  censer  in  a  barber's  shop : — 
Why,  what.  q'  devil's  name,  tailor,  call'st  thou  this? 

T.  S.  if.  & 
1M 


DRE        $£*k*ifmiii  Dittinnan|. 

DRESS,— continued. 

Clolen. — Thou  villain  base, 
Know'st  thou  not  me  by  my  cloaths  ? 

Guiderius. — No,  nor  thy  tailor,  rascal, 
Who  is  thy  grandfather :  he  made  those  cloaths, 
Which,  as  it  seems,  make  thee.  Cym.  iv.  2 

1  will  never  trust  a  man  again  for  keeping  his  sword 
clean ;  nor  bplieve  he  can  have  every  thing  in  him  for 
keeping  his  apparel  neatly.  A.  W.  iv.  3 

DROWNING. 

Lord  !  methought  what  pain  it  was  to  drown  I 
What  dreadful  noise  of  water  in  my  ears  ! 
What  sights  of  ugly  death  within  mine  eyes  I 
Methought  1  saw  a  thousand  fearful  wrecks  ; 
A  thousand  men  that  fishes  gnaw'd  upon.  R.  III.  i.  4. 

Often  did  I  strive 

To  yield  the  ghost;  but  still  the  envious  flood 
Kept  in  my  soul,  and  would  not  let  it  forth 
To  seek  the  empty,  vast,  and  wand'ring  air : 
But  smother'd  it  within  my  panting  bulk, 
Which  almost  burst  to  belch  it  in  the  sea.  R.  W..  i.  4. 

A  pox  of  drowning  thyself  I  it  is  clean  out  of  the  way. 

0.  i.  3. 

DRUMS. 

Strike  up  the  drums :  and  let  the  tongue  of  war 

Plead  for  our  interest.  K.  J.  v.  2 

Do  but  stir 

An  echo  with  the  clamour  of  thy  drum, 
And  even  at  hand  a  drum  is  ready  brac'd, 
That  shall  reverberate  all  as  loud  as  thine ; 
Sound  but  another,  and  another  shall, 
As  loud  as  thine,  rattle  the  welkin's  ear, 
And  mock^the  deep  mouth'd  thunder.  K.  J.  v.  2. 

He's  a  good  drum,  my  lord,  but  a  naughty  orator. 

A.W.  v.  3. 

I'll  no  more  drumming;  a  plague  of  all  drums. 

A.W.iv.  3. 

DRUNKARD  (See  WINK). 

A  howling  monster :  a  drunken  monster.  T.  iii.  2. 

0  that    men  should   put  an  enemy  into  their  mouths, 

to   steal   away  their   brains  I— that  we   should,  with  joy, 

revel,  pleasure,  and    applause,    transform  ourselves   into 

beasts  i  0.  ii.  3. 

M 


DRTJ       ftjUkiff.lit.Ui  Dirtinnartj.       DUE 

DRUNKARD,— continued!. 

0  monstrous  beast  I — how  like  a  swine  he  lies  ! 

Z7.  &  IND.  1 
When  he  is  best,  he  is  little  worse  than  a  man ;    and 

when  he  is  worst,  he  is  little  bettor  than  a  beast. 

M.W.  i.  2. 
Every  inordinate  cup  is  unblessed,  and  the  ingredient  is 

a  devil.  0.  ii.  3. 

Like  a  drowned  man,  a  fool,  and  a  madman ;  one  draught 

above  heat  makes  him  a  fool ;  the  second  mads  him  ;  and 

a  third  drowns  him.  T.  N.  i.  4. 

You  see  this  fellow  that  is  gone  before  ; — 

He  is  a  soldier  fit  to  stand  by  Caesar 

And  give  direction :  and  do  but  see  his  vice  ; 

'Tis  to  his  virtue  a  just  equinox, 

The  one  as  long  as  th'  other.  0.  ii.  3. 

1  will  ask  him  for  my  place  again  ;  he  shall  tell  me,  I 
am  a  drunkard  I     Had  I  as  many  mouths  as  Hydra,  such 
an  answer  would  stop  them  all.     To  be  now  a  sensible 
man,  by  and  by  a  fool,  and  presently  a  beast.  0.  ii.  3, 
One  drunkard  loves  another  of  the  name.             L.  L.  iv.  3 
He'll  be  as  full  of  quarrel  and  offence 

As  my  young  mistress'  dog.  0.  ii.  3. 

I  will,  like  a  true  drunkard,  utter  all  to  thee.      M.  A.  iii.  3. 

And  now,  in  madness, 

Being  full  of  supper,  and  distempering  draughts, 
Upon  malicious  bravery  dost  thou  come, 
To  start  my  quiet.  0.  i.  1 

They  were  red  hot  with  drinking  ; 
So  full  of  valour  that  they  smote  the  air 
For  breathing  in  their  faces  ;  beat  the  ground 
For  kissing  of  their  feet.  T.  iv.  1. 

Do  not  think,  gentlemen,  I  am  drunk  ; — this  is  my  an- 
tient ; — this  is  my  right  hand,  and  this  my  left  hand  : — I 
am  not  drunk : — I  can  stand  well  enough  ;  and  speak  well 
enough :  Why,  very  well  then ;  you  must  not  think  then 
that  I  am  drunk.  0.  ii.  3. 


Pious. 


I'll  ne'er  be  drunk  whilst  I  live  again,  but  in  honest, 
civil,  godly  company,  for  this  trick ;  if  I  be  drunk,  I'll  be 
drunk  with  those  that  have  the  fear  of  God,  and  not  with 
drunken  knaves.  M.  W.  i.  1 

PUELLIST. 

Room  for  th9  incensed  worthies,  &  £.  T.  % 

101 


DUE       lljnbspmian  iirtinnarij.       DUT 

DUELLIST,-  -continued. 

Thou  art  one  of  those  fellowo,  that,  when  he  enters  the 
confines  of  a  tavern,  claps  me  his  sword  upon  the  table, 
and  says,  God  send  me  no  need  of  thee  I  and,  by  the  ope- 
ration of  the  second  cup,  draws  it  on  the  drawer,  when, 
indeed,  there  is  no  need.  B.  J.  iii.  1. 

If  wrongs  be  evils,  and  enforce  us  kill, 
What  folly  'tis  to  hazard  life  for  ill.  T.A.  iii.  0 

Your  words  have  took  such  pains,  as  if  they  labour'd 
To  bring  manslaughter  into  form,  set  quarrelling 
Upon  the  head  of  valour ;  which,  indeed, 
Is  valour  misbegot,  and  came  into  the  world 
When  sects  and  factions  were  but  newly  born.     T.  A.  iii.  5. 
He  is  a  devil  in  a  private  brawl :  soufs  and  bodies  hath 
he  divorced  three  ;  and  his  incensement  at  this  moment  is 
so  implacable,  that  satisfaction  can  be  none  but  by  pangs 
of  death  and  sepulchre ;  hob,  nob,  is  his  word  ;  give't,  or 
take't.  T.  N.  iii.  4. 

DUEL  PREVENTED. 

Boys  of  art,  I  have  deceived  you  both ;  I  have  directed 
you  to  wrong  places :  your  hearts  are  mighty,  and  your 
skins  are  whole,  and  let  burnt  sack  be  the  issue. 

M.W.  iii.  1. 

DULNESS. 

Cudgel  your  brains  no  more  about  it ;  for  your  dull  ass 
will  never  mend  his  pace  with  beating.  H.  v.  1. 

DUNS. 

They  answer,  in  a  joint  and  corporate  voice, 

That  now  they  are  at  fall,  want  treasure,  cannot 

Do  what  they  would  ;  are  sorry — you  are  honourable, — 

But  yet  they  could  have  wish'd — they  knew  not — but 

Something  hath  been  amiss — a  noble  nature 

May  catch  a  wrench — would  all  were  well — 'tis  pity — 

And  so,  intending  other  serious  matters, 

After  distasteful  looks,  and  these  hard  fractions, 

With  certain  half  caps,  and  cold  moving  nods, 

They  froze  me  into  silence.  T.  A.  ii.  2. 

DUPE. 

Whose  nature  is  so  far  from  doing  harms, 

That  he  suspects  none  ;  on  whose  foolish  honesty 

My  practices  ride  easy.  K.  L.  i.  9 

107 


HAG       IjjalttHtimiEn  iirtinnart(.        ELO 


€. 

EAGERNESS. 

My  desire, 
More  sharp  than  filed  steel,  did  spur  me  forth.     T.  N.  in.  S 

EARTHQUAKES. 

Diseased  nature  oftentimes  breaks  forth 

In  strange  eruptions  :  and  the  teeming  earth 

Is  with  a  kind  of  cholic  pinch'd  and  vex'd 

By  the  imprisoning  of  unruly  wind 

Within  her  womb  ;  which,  for  enlargement  striving, 

Shakes  the  old  beldame  earth,  and  topples  down 

Steeples  and  moss-grown  towers.  H.  IV.  PT.  i.  iii.  1 

ECHO. 

Let  us  sit, 

And,  whilst  the  babbling  echo  mocks  the  hounds, 
Replying  shrilly  to  the  well-tun'd  horns, 
As  if  a  double  hunt  were  heard  at  once.        Tit.  And.  ii.  3. 

My  hounds  shall  make  the  welkin  answer  them, 
And  fetch  shrill  echoes  from  the  hollow  earth.    T.  S.  IND.  2. 
The  reverberate  hills.  T.  N.  i.  5. 

The  babbling  gossip  of  the  air  T.  N.  i.  5 

EFFORTS,  ABORTIVE. 

How  my  achievements  mock  me  I  T.G.  iv.  2. 

EGOTISM. 

There's  not  one  wise  man  among  twenty  that  will  praise 
himself.  M.  A.  v.  4. 

ELEPHANT. 

The  Elephant  hath  joints,  but  none  for  courtesy:    hi« 
legs  are  legs  for  necessity,  not  for  flexure.  T.  C.  ii.  3. 

ELEVATION  OP  SOUL. 

I  have 
Immortal  longings  in  me.  A. C.  v.  2 

ELOQUENCE. 

Some  there  are 
WTio  on  the  tip  of  their  persuasive  tongue 

Carry  all  arguments  and  questions  deep  , 
And  replication  prompt,  and  reason  s  strong. 

To  make  the  weeper  smile,  the  laugher  weep. 
They  have  the  dialect  and  different  skill, 
Catching  all  passions  in  their  craft  of  will. 

108 


£|rtk*f]Uiriii  iiitionort}.       EMO 

ELOQUENCE,— continued. 

That  in  the  general  bosom  they  do  reign 

Of  young  and  old,  and  either  sex  enchain.  Poemt. 

When  rank  Thersites  ones  his  mastiff  jaws 

We  shall  hear  music,  wit  and  oracle.  T.C.I.&. 

ELVES  (See  also  PARIES,  SPIRITS). 

Ye  elves  of  hills,  brooks,  standing  lakes,  and  grorss  ; 

And  ye,  that  on  the  sands  with  printless  foot 

Do  chace  the  ebbing  Neptune,  and  do  fly  him, 

When  he  comes  back ;  you  demi-puppets,  that 

By  moonshine  do  the  green-sour  ringlets  make, 

Whereof  the  ewe  not  bites  ;  and  you,  whose  pastime 

Is  to  make  midnight  mushrooms  ;  that  rejoice 

To  hear  the  solemn  curfew  ;  by  whose  aid 

(Weak  masters  though  you  be)  I  have  be-dimm'd 

The  noontide  sun,  call'd  forth  the  mutinous  winds, 

And  twixt  the  green  sea  and  the  azur'd  vault 

Set  roaring  war :  to  the  dread  rattling  thunder 

Have  I  given  fire,  and  rifted  Jove's  stout  oak 

With  his  own  bolt:  the  strong  bas'd  promontory 

Have  I  made  shake  ;  and  by  the  spurs  pluck'd  up 

The  pine  and  cedar :  graves  at  my  command, 

Have  wak'd  their  sleepers  ;  ope'd  and  let  them  forth 

By  my  so  potent  art :  but  this  rough  magic 

I  here  abjure:  and,  when  I  have  requir'd 

Some  heav'nly  music  (which  even  now  I  do) 

To  work  mine  end  upon  their  senses,  that 

This  airy  charm  is  for,  I'll  break  my  staff, 

Bury  it  certain  fathoms  in  the  earth, 

And  deeper  than  did  ever  plummet  sound, 

I'll  drown  my  book.  f.  T.  I 

EMBLEM  (See  ROSES  of  YORK  and  LANCASTER). 
EMOTION  (See  also  PASSIONS). 

• ALTERNATING. 

I  have  felt  so  many  quirks  of  joy,  and  grief, 

That  the  first  face  of  neither,  on  the  start, 

Can  woman  me  unto't.  A.  W.  iii.  2 

CONFLICTING. 

You  have  seen 

Sunshine  and  rain  at  once.     Those  happy  smiles 
That  play'd  on  her  ripe  lip,  seem'd  not  to  know 
What  guests  were  in  her  eyes  ;  which  parted  thence 
As  pearls  from  diamonds  dropp'd.  K.  L.  iv.  3. 

But,  0,  the  noble  combat,  that,  'tw:xt  joy  and  sorrovr 
109  10 


EMC       &ImkEspanari  Dirtinnarij.       ENI 

EMOTIONS,  CONFLICTING, — continued. 

was  fought  in  Paulina !  She  had  one  eye  declined  for  th« 
loss  of  her  husband  ;  another  elevated  that  the  oracle  was 
fulfilled  ;  she  lifted  the  princes  from  the  earth  ;  and  so 
locks  her  in  embracing,  as  if  she  would  pin  her  to  her 
heart.  W.  T.  v.  2. 

SILENT. 

He  has  strangled 
His  language  in  his  tears.  H.  VIII.  v.  L 

Silence  is  the  perfectest  herald  of  joy.  I  were  but  littl* 
happy  if  I  could  say  how  much.  M.  A.  ii.  1. 

EMULATION. 

For  honour  travels  in  a  strait  so  narrow, 

Where  one  but  goes  abreast ;  keep  then  the  path : 

For  emulation  hath  a  thousand  sons, 

That  one  by  one  pursue  :  If  you  give  way, 

Or  hedge  aside  from  the  direct  forthright, 

Like  to  an  entered  tide,  they  all  rush  by, 

And  leave  you  hindmost : — 

Or,  like  a  gallant  horse  fallen  in  first  rank, 

Lies  there  for  pavement  to  the  abject  rear, 

O'er-run  and  trampled  on  :  Then  what  they  do  in  present, 

Though  less  than  yours  in  past,  must  o'er-top  yours. 

T.C.  iii.  J. 

END. 

The  long  day's  task  is  done, 
And  we  must  sleep.  A.C.  iv.  12. 

(THE)  CROWNS  THE  MEANS. 

Near,  or  far  off,  well  won  is  still  well  shot.  K.  J.  i.  1. 

The  end  crowns  all ; 
And  that  old  common  arbitrator,  Time, 
Will  one  day  end  it.  T.C.  IT.  5. 

ENDLESS. 

What  1  will  the  line  stretch  out  to  the  crack  of  doom  ? 

M.  iv.  1. 

ENEMIES. 

You  have  many  enemies,  that  know  not 

Why  they  are  so  ;  but,  like  to  village  curs, 

Bark  when  their  fellows  do.  H.  VIII.  ii.  4. 

If  the  enemy  is  an  ass,  and  a  fool,  and  a  prating  cox- 
comb, is  it  meet,  think  you,  that  we  should  also,  look 
YOU,  be  an  ass,  and  a  fool,  and  a  prating  coxcomb  ? 

H.  V.  ij.  \ 


ENG       i^nbBjnuriau  8irtioiuit[. 


ENGLAND  (See  also  BRITAIN). 

This  royal  throne  of  kings,  this  scepter'd  isle, 

This  earth  of  majesty,  this  seat  of  Mara, 

This  other  Eden,  demi-paradise  ; 

This  fortress  built  by  nature  for  herself, 

Against  infection  and  the  hand  of  war  ; 

This  happy  breed  of  men,  this  little  world  ; 

This  precious  stone  set  in  the  silver  sea, 

Which  serves  it  in  the  office  of  a  wall, 

Or  as  a  moat  defensive  to  a  house, 

Against  the  envy  of  less  happy  lands  ; 

This  blessed  plot,  this  earth,  this  realm,  this  England, 

This  nurse,  this  teeming  womb  of  royal  kings, 

Fear'd  by  their  breed,  and  famous  by  their  birth, 

Renowned  for  their  deeds  as  far  from  home, 

(For  Christian  service,  and  true  chivalry,) 

As  is  the  sepulchre  in  stubborn  Jewry, 

Of  the  world's  ransom,  blessed  Mary's  son  : 

This  land  of  such  dear  souls,  this  dear  dear  land, 

Dear  for  her  reputation  through  the  world, 

la  now  leas'd  out  (I  die  pronouncing  it,) 

Like  to  a  tenement,  or  pelting  farm  : 

England,  bound  in  with  the  triumphant  sea, 

Whose  rocky  shore  beats  back  the  envious  siege 

Of  watery  Neptune,  is  now  bound  in  with  shame, 

With  inky  blots,  and  rotten  parchment  bonds  ; 

That  England  that  was  wont  to  conquer  others, 

Has  made  a  shameful  conquest  of  itself.  R.  II.  ii.  1 

Our  sea-wall'd  garden,  the  whole  land, 

Is  full  of  weeds,  her  fairest  flowers  choak'd  up, 

Her  fruit-trees  all  un-prun'd,  her  hedges  ruin'd, 

Her  knots  disorder*d,  and  her  wholesome  herbs 

Swarming  with  caterpillars.  R.  II.  iii.  4. 

I  will  no  more  return, 

Till  Angiers,  and  the  right  thou  hast  in  France, 
Together  with  that  pale,  that  white-fac'd  shore, 
Whose  foot  spurns  back  the  ocean's  roaring  tides, 
And  coops  from  other  lands  her  islanders  ; 
Even  till  that  England,  hedg'd  in  with  the  main, 
That  water-walled  bulwark,  still  secure 
And  confident  from  foreign  purposes, 
Even  till  that  utmost  corner  of  the  west 
Salute  thoe  for  her  king.  S.  J.  ii.  > 

This  England  never  did,  (nor  never  shall) 
Li?  at  the  proud  foot  of  a  conqueror, 
Bui  when  it  first  did  help  to  wound  itself. 
ill 


ENG       fjrffkifftmUi  DirtiQuanj.       ENM 

ENGLA  ND,— continued. 

*    *    Nought  shall  make  us  rue 
If  England  to  herself  do  rest  but  true.  K.  J.  v.  7. 

0  England,  model  to  thy  inward  greatness, 

Like  little  body  with  a  mighty  heart, — 

What  might'st  thou  do,  that  honour  would  thee  do, 

Were  all  thy  children  kind  and  natural ! 

But  see  thy  fault !  H.  V.  ii.  chorua 

0  nation,  that  thou  could'st  remove  1 
That  Neptune's  arms,  who  clippeth  thee  about, 
Would  bear  thee  from  the  knowledge  of  thyself, 
And  grapple  thee  unto  a  pagan  shore.  K.  J.  v.  2, 

• 's  DEFENCE. 

Let  us  be  baek'd  with  God,  and  with  the  seas, 
Which  he  hath  given  for  fence  impregnable, 
And  with  their  helps,  only,  defend  ourselves  ; 
In  them,  and  in  ourselves,  our  safety  lies. 

H.  VI.  FT.  in.  iv.  1. 
ENGLISH,  THE. 

Would  I  had  never  trod  this  English  earth, 

Or  felt  the  flatteries  that  grow  upon  it ! 

Ye  have  angels'  faces,  but  heaven  knows  your  hearts  1 

H.VIII.\\\.\. 

The  men  do  sympathize  with  the  mastiffs,  in  robustioua 
and  rough  coming  on,  leaving  their  wits  with  their  wives ; 
and  then  give  them  great  meals  of  beef,  and  iron,  and 
steel,  they  will  eat  like  wolves,  and  fight  like  devils. 

H.  V.  iii.  7. 

WRANGLERS. 

Be  friends,  you  English  fools,  be  friends ;  we  have 
French  quarrels  enough,  if  you  could  tell  how  to  reckon. 

H.V.  iv.  1 

ENJOYMENT,  FREQUENCY  OF,  DIMINISHES  PLEASURE. 
The  nightingale  in  summer's  front  doth  sing, 
And  stops  his  pipe  in  growth  of  riper  days  ; 
Not  that  the  summer  is  more  pleasant  now 

Then  when  his  mournful  hymns  did  hush  the  night, 
But  that  wild  music  burdens  every  bough, 

And  sweets  grown  common  lose  their  dear  delight. 

Poenu. 
ENLARGEMENT. 

Ay,  marry,  now  my  soul  hath  elbow  room.  K.  J.  v.  7 

ENMITY. 

If  I  had  a  thunderbolt  in  mine  eye,  I  can  tell  who 
nhould  down.  A.Y.i.2. 

IIS 


ENT        Hjflbspmifltt  iirtinuari;.       EQU 


ENTERPRISE. 

Impossible  be  strange  attempts,  to  those 

That  weigh  their  pains  in  sense  ;  and  do  suppose 

What  hath  been  cannot  be.  A.  W.  i.  1 

Of  all  exploits  since  first  I  follow*  d  arms, 

Ne'er  heard  I  of  a  warlike  enterprise 

More  venturous  or  desperate  than  this.        H.VI.  PT.  i.  ii.  1 

ENVY. 

Know  you  not,  master,  to  some  kind  of  men 

Their  graces  serve  them  but  as  enemies  ? 

No  more  do  yours  ;  your  virtues,  gentle  master, 

Are  sanctified  and  holy  traitors  to  you. 

0,  what  a  world  is  this,  when  what  is  comely 

Envenoms  him  that  bears  it  1  A.T.  ii.  3. 

Lean-fac'd  Envy  in  her  loathsome  cave. 

H.VI.  PT.  ii.  iii.  2. 
Now  I  feel 

Of  what  coarse  metal  ye  are  moulded,—  envy. 
How  eagerly  ye  follow  my  disgraces, 
As  if  it  fed  ye  1  and  how  sleek  and  wanton 
Ye  appear  in  every  thing  may  bring  my  ruin  1 
Follow  your  envious  courses,  men  of  malice  ; 
You  have  Christian  warrant  for  them,  and,  no  doubt, 
In  time  will  find  their  fit  rewards.  H.  VHI.  iii.  2. 

My  heart  laments,  that  virtue  cannot  live 
Out  of  the  teeth  of  emulation.  /.  0.  ii.  3. 

Men,  that  make 

Envy,  and  crooked  malice,  nourishment, 
Dare  bite  the  best.  H.  FEZ  v.  2, 

EPITHETS. 

Truly,  master  Holofernes,  the  epithets  are  sweetly  varied, 
like  a  scholar  at  the  least.  L.  L.  iv.  2. 

-  FOND. 


A  world 

Of  pretty,  fond,  adoptions  Christendoms, 
That  blinking  Cupid  gossips.  A.W.LI. 

EQUANIMITY. 

Nobly  he  yokes 

A  smiling  with  a  sigh :  as  if  the  sigh 

Was  that  it  was,  for  not  being  auch  a  smile ; 

The  smile,  mocking  the  sigh,  that  it  would  fly 

From  so  divine  a  temple,  to  commix 

With  winds,  that  sailors  rail  at  Gym.  iv.  2. 

Thus  ready  for  the  way  of  life  or  death, 

I  wait  the  sharpest  blow.  P.  P.  i.  J, 

"»  10* 


lljnfospnriflti  IPirtiDtiati}.        ESP 

EQUIVOCATION. 

'Faith,  here's  an  equivocator,  that  could  swear  in  both 
the  scales  against  either  scale  ;  who  committed  treason 
enough  for  God's  sake,  yet  could  not  equivocate  to  heaven. 

M.  ii.  3 

How  absolute  the  knave  is  I  we  must  speak  by  the  card, 
or  equivocation  will  undo  us.  H.  v.  1. 

ERROR. 

0  hateful  error,  melancholy's  child ! 

Why  dost  thou  show  to  the  apt  thoughts  of  men 

The  things  that  are  not  ?     0  error,  soon  conceiv'd, 

Thou  never  com'st  unto  a  happy  birth, 

But  kill'st  the  mother  that  engender'd  thee.  J.C.  v.  8. 

But  we  worldly  men 

Have  miserable,  mad,  mistaking  eyes.  Tit.  And.,  v.  2, 

0,  what  men  dare  do!  what  men  may  do!  what  men 
daily  do !  not  knowing  what  they  do !  M.  A.  iv.  1. 

When  from  things  true,  the  heart  and  eyes  have  err'd, 
To  a  false  plague  they  often  are  transferr'd.  Poems 

In  your  affairs,  my  lord, 
If  ever  I  were  wilful- negligent, 
It  was  my  folly  ;  if  industriously 
Iplay'd  the  fool,  it  was  my  negligence, 
Not  weighing  well  the  end  ;  if  ever  fearful 
To  do  a  thing,  where  I  the  issue  doubted, 
Whereof  the  execution  did  cry  out 
Against  the  non-performance,  'twas  a  fear 
Which  oft  aS'ects  the  wisest :  these,  my  lord, 
Are  such  allow'd  infirmities,  that  honesty 
Is  never  free  of.  .     W.T.  i.  2. 

— POPULAR. 

'Tis  the  time's  plague,  when  madmen  lead  the  blind. 

K.  L.  iv.  1 

ESCAPE. 

You  may  thank  the  unquiet  time  for  your  quiet  o'er- 

posting  that  action.  H.  IV.  FT.  n.  i.  2, 

I  have  been  in  such  a  pickle  since  I  saw  you  last,  that, 

1  fear  me,  will  m>ver  out  of  my  bones :  I  shall  not  fear  fly- 
blowing. T.  T.  I 

ESPOUSALS  (See  also  WIFE). 

Let  still  the  woman  take 
Ani  elder  than  herself,  so  wears  she  to  him, 
So  sways  she  level  in  her  husband's  heart. 
For,  boy,  however  we  do  praise  ourselves, 
Our  fancies  arc  more  giddy  and  unfirm, 
114 


ESP        Ijjnlusjifariflii  Drrttoiinn;.       EXA 

ESPOUSALS,— continued. 

More  longing,  wavering,  sooner  lost  and  won, 

Than  women's  are.  T.  N.  ii.  4 

Then  let  thy  love  be  younger  than  thyself, 

Or  thy  affection  cannot  hold  the  bent : 

For  women  are  as  roses,  whose  fair  flower, 

Being  once  display'd,  doth  fall  that  very  hour.      T.  N.  ii.  4. 

EVASION. 

What  trick,  what  device,  what  starting  hole,  canet  thou 
now  find  out;  to  hide  thee  from  this  open  and  apparent 
shame.  H.  IV.  FT.  I.  ii.  4 

For,  well  you  know,  we  of  th'  offending  side 

Must  keep  aloof  from  strict  arbitrament : 

And  stop  all  sight-holes ;  every  loop,  from  whence 

The  eye  of  reason  may  pry  in  upon  us.      H.  IV.  FT.  I.  iv.  1 

WORN-OUT. 

I  ne'er  had  worse  luck  in  my  life,  in  my, — 0  Lord,  Sir: 
I  see,  things  may  serve  long,  but  not  serve  ever. 

A.  W.  ii.  2. 

EVENING. 

Light  thickens  ;  and  the  crow 
Makes  wing  to  the  rooky  wood.  M.  iii.  2, 

The  west  yet  glimmers  with  some  streaks  of  day : 

Now  spurs  the  lated  traveller  apace, 

To  gain  the  timely  inn.  M.  iii.  3. 

Good  things  of  day  begin  to  droop  and  drowze.      M.  iii.  2 

EVIL. 

There  is  some  soul  of  goodness  in  things  evil 

Would  men  observingly  distil  it  out: 

For  our  bad  neighbour  makes  us  early  stirrers, 

Which  is  both  healthful,  and  good  husbandry ; 

Besides,  they  are  our  outward  consciences, 

And  preachers  to  us  all ;  admonishing, 

That  we  should  dress  us  fairly  for  our  end. 

Thus  may  we  gather  honey  from  the  weed, 

And  make  a  moral  of  the  devil  himself.  H.  V.  iv.  1, 

EXALTATION. 

Now  climbeth  Tamora  Olympus'  top ; 
Safe  out  of  fortune's  shot :  and  sits  aloft, 
Secure  of  thunder's  crack,  or  lightning's  flash ; 
Advanc'd  above  pale  Envy's  threat'ning  reach. 

Tit,  And.  ii.  \ 
ti* 


EXA       $|akiffmits  Dutinnarq.       EXO 

EXAMINATION. 

Peace  ;  sit  you  down, 

And  let  me  wring  your  heart ;  for  so  I  shall, 
If  it  be  made  of  penetrable  stuff; 
If  damned  custom  have  not  braz'd  it  so, 
That  it  be  proof  and  bulwark  against  sense.  H.  iiL  4 

You  go  not,  till  I  set  you  up  a  glass, 
AVhere  you  may  see  the  inmost  part  of  you.  H.  ;ii.  4 

EXAMPLE. 

Thieves  for  their  robbery  have  authority 
When  judges  steal  themselves.  M.  M,  ii.  2. 

More  authority,  dear  boy,  name  more  ;  and,  sweet  mj 
child,  let  them  be  even  of  good  repute  and  carriage. 

L.L.  i.  1. 

EXASPERATION. 

Why,  look  you,  I  am  whipp'd  and  scourged  with  rods, 

Nettled,  and  stung  with  pismires,  when  I  hear 

Of  this  vile  politician,  Bolingbroke.  H.  IV.  PT.  i.  i.  3 

EXCELLENCE. 

They  are  worthy 
To  inlay  heaven  with  stars.  Gym.  v.  5. 

The  top  of  admiration  ;  worth 
What's  dearest  to  the  world.  T.  iii.  1, 

But  you,  0  you, 

So  perfect  and  so  peerless,  are  created 
Of  every  creature's  best.  T.  iii.  1. 

EXCESS. 

As  surfeit  is  the  father  of  much  fast, 

So  every  scope  by  the  immoderate  use 

Turns  to  restraint :  our  natures  do  pursue 

(Like  rats,  that  ravin  down  their  proper  bane) 

A  thirsty  evil ;  and  when  we  drink,  we  die.          M.  M.  i.  S. 

Allow  not  nature  more  than  nature  needs.  K.  L.  ii.  4 

EXCITEMENT. 

And  thereof  came  it  that  the  man  was  mad.         C.  E.  v.  1 

EXCUSES  SOMETIMES  IMPROPER. 

When  workmen  strive  to  do  better  than  well, 
They  do  confound  their  skill  in  covetousness : 
And,  oftentimes,  excusing  of  a  fault, 
Doth  make  the  fault  the  worse  by  the  excuse  ; 
As  patches  set  upon  a  little  breach, 
Discredit  more  in  hiding  of  the  fault, 
Than  did  the  fault  before  it  was  so  patch'd.         A".  /  IT.  2 
Ul 


I:XP       Ifjnkfspcnriflti  fHrtinnnrtf.       EXP 

EXPECTATION. 

Oft  expectation  fails,  and  most  oft  tnere 

Where  most  it  promises ;  and  oft  it  hits, 

Where  hope  is  coldest,  and  despair  most  sits.       A.  IF.  ii.  1. 

For  now  sits  Expectation  in  the  air.  H.  V.  ii.  chorus 

So  tedious  is  this  day, 
As  is  the  night  before  some  festival 
To  an  impatient  child,  that  hath  new  robes, 
And  may  not  wear  them.  R.  J.  in.  2. 

Now  expectation,  tickling  skittish  spirits, 
On  one  and  other  side,  Trojan  and  Greek 
Sets  all  on  hazard.  T.C.  Prologue. 

The  town  is  empty ;  on  the  brow  o'  the  sea 
Stand  ranks  of  people,  and  they  cry, — a  sail.  0.  ii.  1. 

For  every  minute  is  expectancy 
Of  more  arrivance.  0.  ii.  1. 

It  is  a  high-wrought  flood  ; 
I  cannot,  'twixt  the  heaven  and  the  main, 
Descry  a  sail.  0.  ii.  1 

Even  till  we  make  the  main,  and  the  aerial  blue 
An  indistinct  regard.  0.  ii.  1. 

EXPEDIENCY. 

Construe  the  times  to  their  necessities.     H.  IV.  FT.  ii.  iv.  1. 

EXPERIENCE. 

Experience  is  by  industry  aehiev'd, 

And  perfected  by  the  swift  course  of  time.  T.  0.  i.  3, 

Experience,  0,  thou  disproVst  report !  Cym.  v.  2. 

EXPIRING. 

Vex  not  his  ghost ;  0  let  him  pass,  he  hates  him, 

That  would  upon  the  rack  of  this  tough  world 

Stretch  him  out  longer.  K.  L.  v.  S. 

EXPLANATION. 

To  my  unfolding  lend  a  gracious  ear ; 

And  let  me  find  a  charter  in  your  voice, 

To  assist  my  simpleness.  O.  i.  3 

EXPLOSION. 

It  shall  go  hard, 

But  I  will  delve  one  yard  below  their  mines, 
And  blow  them  to  the  moon.  H.  iii.  4 

EXPOSURE. 

Come,  come ; 
Lend  me  a  light     Know  we  this  face,  or  no*  O.  f,^. 


EXP       IjialUHjunriatt  Shtinuanj.        EIJB 


EXPRESSION,  LASCIVIOCS. 

Fie,  fie  upon  her  ! 

There's  language  in  her  eye,  her  cheek,  her  Up  ; 
Nay,  her  foot  speaks  ;  her  wanton  spirits  look  out, 
At  every  joint  and  motion  of  her  body. 
0,  these  encounterers,  so  glib  of  tongue, 
That  give  a  coasting  welcome  ere  it  comes, 
And  wide  unclasp  the  tables  of  their  thoughts 
To  every  ticklish  reader  1  set  them  down 
For  sluttish  spoils  of  opportunity, 
And  daughters  of  the  game.  T.  C.  iv.  5 

EXPULSION. 

I  cannot  tell,  good  Sir,  for  which  of  his  virtues  it  was,  but 
he  was  certainly  whipped  out  of  the  court.  W.  T.  iv.  2. 

EXTACY. 

0  Helicanus,  strike  me,  honor'd  Sir  ; 
Give  me  a  gash,  put  me  to  present  pain  ; 
Lest  this  great  sea  of  joys  rushing  upon  me, 
O'erbear  the  shores  of  my  mortality, 

And  drown  me  with  their  sweetness.  P.  1\  v.  1  , 

EXTENUATION. 

I  would,  I  could 

Quit  all  offences  with  as  clear  excuse, 
As  well  as,  I  am  doubtless,  I  can  purge 
Myself  of  many  I  am  charg'd  withal  : 
Yet  such  extenuation  let  me  beg, 
As,  in  reproof  of  many  tales  devis'd,— 
Which  oft  the  ear  of  greatness  needs  must  hear,  — 
By  smiling  pick-thanks  and  base  newsmongers, 

1  may,  »or  some  things  true,  wherein  niy  youth 
Hath  faulty  wander'  d  and  irregular, 

Find  pardon  on  my  true  submission.         H.  IV.  FT.  i.  iii.  2. 

JSXTERIOR,  PLAUSIBLE. 

There  is  a  fair  behaviour  in  thee,  captain  ; 

And  though  that  nature,  with  a  beauteous  wall, 

Doth  oft  close  in  pollution,  yet  of  thee 

I  will  believe,  thou  hast  a  mind  that  suits 

With  this  thy  fair  and  outward  character.  '/'.  N  i.  2 

EYE. 

Men's  eyes  were  made  to  look,  and  let  them  gaze. 

R.J.  iii.1 

The  eye  sees  not  itself, 

But  by  reflection,  by  some  othor  things.  J.C.  i,  21 

IA.V  «wary  eyo  nogociato  for  itself,  and  trust  no  agent. 

#.  4.  il  i 
U* 


EYE       Ijjakfsjiranafl  Dirtioiiarii.       EYE 

E  YE, — coTtiimied. 

An  eye  like  Mars,  to  threaten  and  command.          H.  iii.  4. 

What  an  eye  she  hath  1  methinks  it  sounds  a  parley  of 
provocation.  O.  li.  3. 

For  hia  ordinary,  pays  his  heart, 
For  what  his  eyes  eat  only.  A.  C.  ii ,  2, 

From  women's  eyes  this  doctrine  I  derive : 
They  sparkle  still  the  right  Promethean  fire  ; 
They  are  the  books,  the  arts,  the  academies, 
That  show,  contain,  and  nourish  all  the  world ; 
Else,  none  at  all  in  aught  proves  excellent.          L.  L.  iv.  3 
Thou  tell'st  me  there  is  murder  in  mine  eye : 
</Tis  pretty,  sure,  and  very  probable, 
JThat  eyes, — that  are  the  frail'st  and  softest  things, 
,Who  shut  their  coward  gates  on  atomies, — 
"vShoukl  be  call'd  tyrants,  butchers,  murderers  I 
Now  I  do  frown  on  thee  with  aH  my  Heart ; 
And,  if  mine  eyes  can  wound,  now  let  them  kill  thee ; 
Now  counterfeit  to  swoon  ;  why  now  fall  down ; 
Or,  if  thou  can'st  not,  0,  for  shame,  for  shame, 
Lie  not,  to  say  mine  eyes  are  murderers. 
Now  show  the  wound  mine  eyes  have  made  in  thee : 
Scratch  thee  but  with  a  pin,  and  there  remains 
Some  scar  of  it ;  lean  but  upon  a  rush, 
The  cicatrice  and  capable  impressure 
Thy  palm  some  moment  keeps :  but  now  mines  eyes, 
Which  I  have  darted  at  thee,  hurt  thee  not ; 
Nor,  I  am  sure,  there  is  no  force  in  eyes, 
That  can  do  hurt.  A.  Y.  iii.  5, 

She  speaks,  yet  she  says  nothing; — what  of  that? 

Her  eye  discourses,  I  will  answer  it. 

I  am  too  bold,  'tis  not  to  me  she  speaks : 

Two  of  the  fairest  stars  in  all  the  heaven, 

Having  some  business,  do  entreat  her  eyes 

To  twinkle  in  their  spheres  till  they  return.  R.  /.  ii.  2 

I  perceive,  these  lords, 
At  this  encounter,  do  so  much  admire, 
That  they  devour  their  reason ;  and  scarce  think 
Their  eyes  do  offices  of  truth,  their  words 
Are  natural  breath.  T.  T.  L 

The  beauty  that  is  borne  here  in  the  face 
The  bearer  knows  not,  but  commends  itself 
To  others'  eyes :  nor  doth  the  eye  itself 
(That  most  pure  spirit  of  sense)  behold  itself, 
Not  going  from  itself;  but  eye  to  eye  oppos'd 
Salute  each  other  with  each  other's  form.  21  C1.  iii.  Z 

U» 


EYE       ^jjnkpsiifiirinn  Sirtinnanj. 


EYE-BROWS. 

Your  brows  are  blacker  ;  yet  black  brows,  they  say, 

Become  some  women  best;  so  that  there  be  not 

Too  much  hair  there,  but  in  a  semi-circle, 

Or  half  moon  made  with  a  pen.  W.T.  ii.  1 

--  AND  EARS. 

My  will  enkindled  by  mine  eyes  and  ears, 

Two  traded  pilots  'twixt  the  dangerous  shores 

Of  will  and  judgment.  T.  C.  ii.  2 


s. 

FACE. 

If  he  be  not  one  that  truly  loves  you, 
That  errs  in  ignorance  and  not  in  cunning, 
I  have  no  judgment  in  an  honest  face.  O.  iii.  3. 

Your  face,  my  thane,  is  as  a  book,  where  men 
May  read  strange  matters.  M.  i.  5 

FACILITY. 

'Tis  as  easy  as  lying,  H.  iii.  2 

FAIRIES  (See  also  ELVES,  QUEEN  MAB.) 

Where  the  bee  sucks,  there  suck  I, 

In  a  cowslip's  bell  I  lie : 

There  I  couch  when  owls  do  cry. 

On  the  bat's  back  I  do  fly, 

After  summer  merrily : 
Merrily,  merrily  shall  I  live  now, 

Under  the  blossom  that  hangs  on  the  bough.  T.  v.  1, 

Fairies,  black,  grey,  green,  and  white, 
You  moon-shine  revellers,  and  shades  of  night, 
You  orphan-heirs  of  fixed  destiny, 

Attend  your  office,  and  your  quality.  M.  W.  v.  5 

Elves,  list  your  names ;  silence,  you  airy  toys. 
Cricket,  to  Windsor  chimneys  shall  thou  leap : 
Where  fires  thou  find'st  unrak'd,  and  hearths  unswept, 
v  There  pinch  the  maids  as  blue  as  bilberry : 
Our  radiant  queen  hates  sluts  and  sluttery.  W.M.  v.  £ 

But  that  it  eats  our  victuals,  I  should  think 
Here  were  a  fairy.  Cym.  i'u  6 

Come,  now  a  roundel,  and  a  fairy  song ; 
Then,  for  the  third  part  of  a  minute,  hence; 
Some,  to  kill  cankers  in  the  musk-rose  buds ; 
Some,  war  with  rear-mice  for  their  leathern  wings, 
To  make  my  small  olvca  coats ;  and  some,  keep  back 


FAI        f  jjnkrspBariaii  Sirtionanj.        FAI 

FAIRIES,— continued. 

The  clamorous  owl,  that  nightly  hoots,  and  wonders 

At  our  quaint  spirits.  M.  N.  ii.  3 

Where's  Pedef— Go  you,  and  where  you  find  a  maid, 
Thai,  ere  she  sleep,  has  thrice  her  prayers  said, 
Raise  up  the  organs  of  her  fantasy, 
Sleep  she  as  sound  as  careless  infancy ; 
But  those  that  sleep,  and  think  not  on  their  sins. 
Pinch  them,  arms,  legs,  back,  shoulders,  sides,  and  shins. 

M.W.  Y.5 

About,  about ; 

Search  Windsor-Castle,  elves,  within  and  out : 

Strew  good  luck,  ouphes,  in  every  sacred  room 

That  it  may  stand  till  the  perpetual  doom, 

In  state  as  wholesome  as  in  state  'tis  fit ; 

Worthy  the  owner,  and  the  owner  it. 

The  several  chairs  of  order  look  you  scour 

With  juice  of  balm,  and  every  precious  flower  . 

Each  fair  instalment,  coat,  and  several  crest. 

With  loyal  blazon,  evermore  be  blest ! 

And  nightly,  meadow-fairies,  look,  you  sing, 

Like  to  the  Garter's  compass,  in  a  ring : 

The  expressure  that  it  bears,  green  let  it  be, 

More  fertile-fresh  than  all  the  field  to  see ; 

And  Hony  soil  qui  mal  y  pense,  write 

In  emerald  tufts,  flowers  purple,  blue,  and  white  •, 

Like  sapphire,  pearl,  and  rich  embroidery, 

Buckled  below  fair  knighthood's  bending  knee  : 

Fairies  use  flowers  for  their  charactery. 

Away ;  disperse.  M.  W.  v.  5. 

Then,  my  queen,  in  silence  sad, 
Trip  we  after  the  night's  shade : 
We  the  globe  can  compass  soon, 
Swifter  than  the  wand' ring  moon.  M.  N.  iv.  1. 

Pray  you,  lock  hand  in  hand :  yourselves  in  order  set : 

And  twenty  glow-worms  shall  our  lanterns  be, 

To  guide  our  measure  round  about  the  tree.         M.  W.  v.  5 

Be  kind  and  courteous  to  this  gentleman ; 
Hop  in  his  walks,  and  gambol  in  his  eyes ; 
Feed  him  with  apricocks  and  dewberries, 
With  purple  grapes,  green  figs,  and  mulberries 
The  honey  bags  steal  from  the  humble  bees, 
And,  for  night-tapers,  crop^  their  waxen  thighs 
And  light  them  at  the  fiery  glow-worm's  eyes. 
To  have  my  love  to  bed,  and  to  arise ; 
And  pluck  the  wings  from  painted  butterflies, 


ijiabspmiatt  Dirtinitnrtj.        FAI 

FAIRIES, — continued. 

To  fan  the  moon-beams  from  his  sleeping  eyes : 

Nod  to  him,  elves,  and  do  him  courtesies.  M.  N.  iii.  L 

EMPLOYMENT. 

To  tread  the  ooze  of  the  salt  deep; 
To  run  upon  the  sharp  wind  of  the  north ; 
To  do  me  business  in  the  veins  o'  the  earth, 
When  it  is  bak'd  with  frost.  T.  i.  2. 

FAITH, 

Well,  if  ever  thou  dost  fall  from  this  faith,  thou  wilt 
prove  a  notable  argument.  M.  A.  i.  1. 

FALLEN  GREATNESS  (See  also  LIFE,  DEATH,  MIGHTY  DEAR.) 

'Tis  a  sufferance,  panging 

As  sou!  and  body's  severing.  H.VIII.  ii.  3. 

Farewell,  a  long  farewell,  to  all  my  greatness ! 
This  is  the  state  of  man :     To-day  he  puts  forth 
The  tender  leaves  of  hope  ;  to-morrow  blossoms, 
And  bears  his  blushing  honours  thick  upon  him  ; 
The  third  day  comes  a  frost,  a  killing  frost ; 
And  when  he  thinks,  good  easy  man,  full  surely 
His  greatness  is  a  ripening. — nips  his  root, 
And  then  he  falls,  as  I  do.     I  have  ventur'd, 
Like  little  wanton  boys  that  swim  on  bladders, 
This  many  summers  in  a  sea  of  glory  ; 
But  far  beyond  my  depth:  my  high-blown  pride  . 
At  length  broke  under  me  ;  and  now  has  left  me, 
Weary,  and  old  with  service,  to  the  mercy 
Of  a  rude  stream,  that  must  for  ever  hide  me. 
Vain  pomp,  and  glory  of  this  world,  I  hate  ye ; 
I  feel  my  heart  new  opened :     0,  how  wretched 
Is  that  poor  man,  that  hangs  on  princes'  favours ! 
There  is,  betwixt  that  smile  we  would  aspire  to, 
That  sweet  aspect  of  princes,  and  their  ruin, 
More  pangs  and  fears  than  wars  and  women  have ; 
And  when  he  falls,  he  falls  like  Lucifer, 
Never  to  hope  again.  H.  VIII.  iii.  2 

But  yesterday,  the  word  of  Caesar  might 
Have  stood  against  the  world :  now  lies  he  there, 
And  none  so  poor  to  do  him  reverence.  J.  C.  iii.  2 

0  sun,  thy  uprise  shall  I  see  no  more  : 
Fortune  and  Antony  part  here ;  even  here 
Do  we  shake  hands. — All  come  to  this  ?    The  hearts 
That  spaniel'd  me  at  heels,  to  whom  I  gave 
Their  wishes,  do  discandy,  melt  their  sweets 
On  blossoming  Caesar  ;  and  this  pine  i-  bark'd 
That  over-topp'd  them  all.  JL.O.  iv.  1C 

an 


FAL       Ijjnbspnniitt  Dirtiuttnrtf.        FAI 

FALLEN  GREATNESS, — continued. 

High  events  as  these 

Strike  those  that  make  them  :  and  their  story  is 
No  less  in  pity,  than  his  glory,  which 
Brought  them  to  be  lamented.  A.C.  v.  2 

Nay  then,  farewell ! 

I've  touch'd  the  highest  point  of  all  my  greatness! 
And,  from  that  full  meridian  of  my  glory, 
i  haste  now  to  my  setting.     I  shall  fall 
Like  a  bright  exhalation  in  the  evening, 
And  no  man  see  me  more.  H.VIII.  iii,  2 

Where  is  thy  husband  now?  where  be  thy  brothers? 
Where  be  thy  two  sons  ?  wherein  dost  thou  joy  ? 
Who  sues,  and  kneels,  and  says — God  save  the  queen  ? 
Where  be  the  bending  peers  that  flatter'd  thee  ? 
Where  be  the  thronging  troops  that  follow*  d  thee  ? 
Decline  all  this,  and  see  what  now  thou  art.       R.  HI.  iv.  4 

A  falcon,  tow'ring  in  her  pride  of  place, 
Was,  by  a  mousing  owl,  hawk'd  at,  and  kill'd.         M.  ii.  4 
An  argument  that  he  is  pluck'd,  when  hither 
He  sends  so  poor  a  pinion  of  his  wing, 
Which  had  superfluous  kings  for  messengers, 
Not  many  moons  gone  by.  A.C.  iii.  10 

0  wither'd  is  the  garland  of  the  war, 
The  soldier's  pole  is  fallen  :  young  boys,  and  girls 
Are  level  now  with  men  ;  the  odds  is  gone, 
And  there  is  nothing  left  remarkable 
Beneath  the  visiting  moon.  A.C.  iv.  13 

0  mighty  Csesar!     Dost  thou  lie  so  low? 

Are  all  thy  conquests,  glories,  triumphs,  spoils, 

Shrunk  to  this  little  measure  ?  J.C.  iii.  1 

"Tis  certain,  greatness,  once  fallen  out  with  fortune, 

Must  fall  out  with  men  too  :     What  the  declin'd  is, 

He  shall  as  soon  read  in  the  eyes  of  others, 

As  feel  in  his  own  fall : — for  men,  like  butterflies, 

Show  not  their  mealy  wings  but  to  the  summer. 

T.C.\\\.  3 
Never  so  truly  happy,  my  good  Cromwell, 

1  know  myself  now ;  and  1  feel  wiibin  me 
A  peace  above  all  earthly  dignities, 

A  still  and  quiet  conscience.     The  king  has  cur'd  me, 

I  humbly  thank  his  grace  ;  and  from  these  shoulders, 

These  ruiu'd  pillars,  out  of  pity,  taken 

A  load  would  sink  a  navv,  too  much  honour: 

O,  'tis  a  burden,  Cromwell,  'tis  a  burden, 

Too  heavy  for  a  man  that  hopes  for  heaven.    H.  VW.  UL  $ 

m 


^       gjiahfijiuriflii  flutingatq.        FAI 

FA  LLEX  GREATN ESS, — continued. 

My  lord  of  Winchester,  you  are  a  little, 

By  your  good  favour,  too  sharp  ;  men  so  noble. 

However  faulty,  yet  should  find  respect, 

For  what  they  have  been  :  'tis  a  cruelty, 

To  load  a  falling  man.  H.  VHL  v.  2. 

His  overthrow  heap'd  happiness  upon  him  ; 

For  then,  and  not  till  then,  he  felt  himself, 

And  found  the  blessedness  of  being  little.         H.  VIII.  iv.  2 

What,  amazed 

At  my  misfortunes  ?  can  thy  spirit  wonder, 
A  great  man  should  decline  ?     Nay,  an  you  weep, 
I  am  fallen  indeed.  H.  VIII.  iii.  2 

There  was  the  weight  that  pull'd  me  down.     0  Cromwell 

The  king  has  gone  beyond  me,  all  my  glories 

In  that  one  woman  I  have  lost  for  ever : 

No  sun  shall  ever  usher  forth  mine  honours, 

Or  gild  again  the  noble  troops  that  waited 

Upon  my  smiles..    Go,  get  thee  from  me,  Cromwell ; 

I  am  a  poor  fallen  man,  unworthy  now 

To  be  thy  lord  and  master.  H.  VIII.  iii.  2. 

Brave  Percy :     Fare  thee  well,  great  heart ! 
Ill-weavM  ambition,  how  much  art  thou  shrunk  ! 
When  that  this  body  did  contain  a  spirit, 
A  kingdom  for  it  was  too  small  a  bound  ; 
But  now,  two  paces  of  the  vilest  earth 
Is  room  enough.  H.  IV.  PT.  i.  v.  4 

Let's  talk  of  graves,  of  worms,  and  epitaphs, 

Make  dust  our  paper,  and  with  rainy  eyes,. 

Write  sorrow  on  the  bosom  of  the  earth. 

Let's  choose  executors,  and  talk  of  wills : 

And  yet  not  so,  for  what  can  we  bequeath, 

Save  our  deposed  bodies  to  the  ground  ? 

Our  lands,  our  lives,  and  all  are  Bolingbroke's, 

And  nothing  can  we  call  our  own,  but  death  ; 

And  that  small  model  of  the  barren  earth, 

Which  serves  as  paste  and  cover  to  our  bones. 

For  heaven's  sake  let  us  sit  upon  the  ground, 

A.nd  tell  sad  stories  of  the  death  of  kings : — 

How  some  have  been  depos'd,  some  slain  in  war  ;— 

Some  haunted  by  the  ghosts  they  have  depos'd  ; 

Some  poison'd  by  their  wives,  some  sleeping  kill'd ; 

All  murder'd.  R  II.  iii.  2 

0,  my  lord, 

Press  not  a  falling  man  too  far  ;  'tis  virtue: 
flia  faults  he  open  to  the  laws  ;  let  them, 


FAL       $ltktjytarift>  IHrtinnanj.       F.AM 

F  1 LLEN  GREATNESS, — continued. 

Not  you,  correct  him.     My  heart  weeps  to  see  him 

So  little  of  his  great  self.  H.  VIII.  iii.  2. 

I  must  now  forsake  ye  ;  the  last  hour 
Of  ray  long  weary  life  is  come  upon  me. 
Farewell : 

And  when  you  would  say  something  that  is  sad, 
Speak  how  I  fell.  H.  FIH.  ii.  4. 

Pry'thee  go  hence, 

Or  I  shall  show  the  cinders  of  my  spirit 
Through  the  ashes  of  my  chance.  A.  C.  v.  2. 

Now  boast  thee,  death  !  in  thy  possession  lies 

A  las*  unparalleled. — Downy  windows,  close  ; 

And  golden  Phoebus  never  be  beheld 

Of  eyes  again  so  royal  1  A.  C.  v.  2. 

FALSE  CHARACTERS. 

I  am  damned  in  hell,  for  swearing  to  gentlemen,  my 
friends,  you  were  good  soldiers,  and  tall  fellows  :  and  when 
Mistress  Bridget  lost  the  handle  of  her  fan,  I  took't  upon 
mine  honour,  thou  hadst  it  not.  M.  W.  ii.  2. 

HAIR. 

So  are  those  crisped  snaky  golden  locks, 
Which  make  such  wanton  gambols  with  the  wind, 
Dpi i u  supposed  fairness,  often  known 
To  be  the  dowry  of  a  second  head, 
The  scull  that  bred  them  in  the  sepulchre.  M.  V.  iii.  2. 

FALSEHOOD. 

Falser  than  vows  made  in  wine.  A.Y.  iii. 5. 

As  false  as  dicers'  oaths.  H.  iii.  4. 

0  what  a  goodly  outside  falsehood  hath.  M.V.  i. 3. 
That  same  Diomed  is  a  false-hearted  rogue,  a  most  un- 
just knave  ;  1  will  no  more  trust  him  when  he  leers,  than 

4  I  will  a  serpent  when  he  hisses  ;  he  will  spend  his  mouth, 
and  promise,  like  Brabler  the  hound ;  but  when  he  performs, 
astronomers  fortel  it ;  it  is  prodigious  ;  there  will  come  some 
change  ;  the  sun  borrows  of  the  moon,  when  Diomed  keeps 
his  word.  T.C.v.  1. 

FALLSTAFF. 

1  have  much  to  say  on  behalf  of  that  Fallstaff. 

H.IY.TT.i.ii.l 

FAME  (See  also  CELEBRITY). 

Let  fame,  that  all  hunt  after  in  their  lives, 
Live  register' d  upon  our  brazen  tombs, 

i»  u* 


FAM       iljabspranflit  iirtinniinj.       FAM 

IAME, — continued. 

And  then  grace  us  in  the  disgrace  of  death  ; 
When,  spite  of  cormorant  devouring  Time, 
The  endeavour  of  this  present  breath  may  buy 
That  honour  which  shall  bate  his  scythe's  keen  edge, 
And  make  us  heirs  of  all  eternity.  L.L.  i.  1. 

All-telling  Fame.  L.  L.  ii.  I 

It  deserves  with  characters  of  brass, 
A  forted  residence,  'gainst  the  tooth  of  time 
And  razure  of  oblivion.  M.  M.\.\. 

The  evil  that  men  do  lives  after  them ; 

•     The  good  is  oft  interred  with  their  bones.  /.  G.  iii.  2. 

Men's  evil  manners  live  in  brass :  their  virtues 
We  write  in  water.  H.VIII.  iv.2 

Death  makes  no  conquest  of  this  conqueror ; 
For  now  he  lives  in  fame,  though  not  in  life. 

R.  lU.  iii.  1. 
He  lives  in  fame,  that  died  in  virtue's  cause. 

Tit.  And.  i.  2 

After  my  death,  I  wish  no  other  herald, 
No  other  speaker  of  my  living  actions, 
To  keep  mine  honour  from  corruption, 
But  such  an  honest  chronicler  as  Griffith.         H.  VIII.  iv.  2. 

Adieu,  and  take  thy  praise  with  thee  to  heaven  I 

Thy  ignominy  sleep  with  thee  in  the  grave, 

But  not  remember'd  in  thy  epitaph.  H.  IV.  PT.  i.  v.  4. 

Fame,  at  the  which  he  aims, — 

In  whom  already  he  is  woll  grac'd,— cannot 

Better  be  held,  nor  more  attain'd,  than  by 

A  place  below  the  first:  for  what  miscar  ios 

Shall  be  the  general's  fault,  though  he  f  erform 

To  the  utmost  of  a  man ;  and  giddy  censure 

Will  then  cry  out  of  Marcius,  0,  if  he 

Had  borne  the  business!  C.  i.  1. 

0,  Harry,  thou  hast  robb'd  me  of  my  youth, 

I  better  brook  the  loss  of  brittle  life, 

Than  those  proud  titles  thou  hast  won  of  me ; 

They  wound  my  thoughts,  worse  than  thy  sword  my  flesh; 

But  thought's  the  slave  of  life,  and  life,  time's  fool; 

And  time,  that  takes  survey  of  all  the  world, 

Must  have  a  stop.  H.  IV.  PT.  i.  v.  4. 

Having  his  ear  full  of  his  airy  fame, 

Grows  dainty  of  his  worth,  and  in  his  tent 

Lies  mocking  our  designs.  71  (7.  L  5 

m 


FAM       |jjnkrs|irnrintt  Dictiananj.       FAH 

FAME, — continued. 

If  a  man  do  not  erect,  in  this  age,  his  own  tomb  ere  he 

dies,  he  shall  live  no  longer  in  monument,  than  the  beil 

rings,  and  the  widow  weeps.  *  *  *  An  hour  in  clamour,  and 

a  quarter  in  rheum.  M.  A.  v.  2. 

I  would  give  all  my  fame  for  a  pot  of  ale,  and  safety. 

H.  V.  iii.  2. 

FANCY. 

So  full  of  shapes  is  fancy, 

That  it  alone  is  high-fantastical.  T.  N.  i.  1. 

An  old  hat,  and  the  humour  of  forty  fancies  stuck  in  it 

for  a  frather.  T.  6'.  iii.  2. 

Nature  wants  stuff 

To  vie  strange  forms  with  fancy.  A.  C.  Y.  2. 

Tell  me,  where  is  fancy  bred ; 
Or  in  the  heart,  or  in  the  head  ? 
How  begot,  how  nourished? 
It  is  engender'd  in  the  eyes, 
With  gazing  fed :  and  fancy  dies 
In  the  cradle  where  it  lies.  M  V.  \\\.  2. 

She  knew  her  distance,  and  did  angle  for  me, 

Madding  my  eagerness  with  her  restraint, 

As  all  impediments  in  fancy's  course 

Are  motives  of  more  fancy.  A.  W.  v.  3. 

We  must  every  one  be  a  man  of  bis  own  fancy. 

A.  W.  iv.  1. 
In  maiden  meditation,  fancy-free.  M.  N.  ii.  2. 

FA5UION. 

See'st  thou  not,  I  say,  what  a  deformed  thief  this  fashion 
is  ?  how  giddily  he  turns  about  all  the  hot  bloods  between 
fourteen  and  five-and-thirty  ?  M.  A.  iii. 3. 

Eat,  speak,  and  move,  under  the  influence  of  the  most 
received  star;  and  though  the  devil  lead  the  measure,  such 
are  to  be  followed.  A.  FF..ii.  1. 

I  see  that  the  fashion  wears  out  more  apparel  than  the 
man.  M.  A.  iii.  3 

New  customs, 

Though  they  be  never  so  ridiculous, 

Nay,  let  them  be  unmanly,  yet  are  followed.     H.  VLLL.  i.  3. 

These  remnants 

Of  fool  and  feather,  that  they  got  in  France, 
With  all  their  honourable  pointa  of  ignorance 
Pertaining  thereunto.  H.  VLLL  i. } 

01 


FAS       j&jjakJBjiJfltuu  iirtinuarij.       FAT 


FASHION,—  continued. 
Death  !  my  lord, 
Their  clothes  are  after  such  a  pagan  cut  too.     H.  VIII.  i.  3. 

Still,  wars  and  letchery  ;  nothing  else  holds  fashion:  a 
burning  devil  take  them  !  T.  G.  v.  2. 

FATE. 

0  heavens  1  that  one  might  read  the  book  of  fate  ; 

And  see  the  revolutions  of  the  times 

Make  mountains  level,  and  the  continent 

(Weary  of  solid  firmness)  melt  itself 

Into  the  seal  and,  other  times,  to  see 

The  beachy  girdle  of  the  ocean 

Too  wide  for  Neptune's  hips:   how  chances  mock, 

And  changes  fill,  the  cup  of  alteration, 

With  divers  liquors  !  H.  IV.  PT.  n.  iii.  1. 

What  fates  impose,  that  men  must  needs  abide, 
It  boots  not  to  resist  both  wind  and  tide. 

H.  IV.  PT.  in.  iv.  3. 

We  defy  augury  ;  there  is  a  special  providence  in  the  fall 
of  a  sparrow.  If  it  be  now,  'tis  not  to  come  ;  if  it  be  not 
to  come,  it  will  be  now  ;  if  it  be  not  now,  yet  it  will  come  : 
the  readiness  is  all.  H.  v.  2. 

But,  0  vain  boast! 
Who  can  controul  his  fate  ?  O.v.2. 

Well,  heaven  forgive  him,  and  forgive  us  all  1 

Some  rise  by  sin,  and  some  by  virtue  fall  : 

Some  run  from  brakes  of  vice  and  answer  none  ; 

And  some  condemned  for  one  fault  alone.  M.  M.  ii.  1 

If  thou  read  this,  0  Caesar,  thou  may'st  live  ; 

If  not,  the  fates  with  traitors  do  contrive.  J.C.  ii.  3. 

Men,  at  some  times,  are  masters  of  their  fates.       J.  C.  i.  2. 

But,  orderly  to  end  where  I  begun, 

Our  wills  and  fates  do  so  contrary  run, 

That  our  devices  still  are  overthrown  ; 

Our  thoughts  are  ours,  their  ends  none  of  our  own. 

#.  iii.2 

FATHER. 

Fathers,  that  wear  rags, 

Do  make  their  children  blind  ; 
But  fathers  that  bear  bags, 

Shall  see  their  children  kind,  K.  L.  ii  4. 

Who  would  be  a  father  ':  0.  i.  1. 

m 


FAY       ijukfijtturUti  iirtinuiinj. 

FAVOUR. 

For  taking  one's  part  thafs  out  of  favour:  Nay,  an 
thou  canst  not  smile  as  the  wind  sits,  thoul't  catch  cold 
shortly.  K.  L.  i.  4 

0,  who  shall  believe, 

But  you  misuse  the  reverence  of  your  place  ; 
Employ  the  countenance  and  grace  of  neaven, 
As  a  false  favourite  does  his  prince's  name 
In  deeds  dishonourable.  H.  IV.  FT.  11.  iv.  2  ; 

Sickness  is  catching:  0,  were  favour  so !  M.  N.  i.  1. 

Pll  set  thee  in  a  shower  of  gold,  and  hail 
Rich  pearls  upon  thee.  A.C.  i'i.  5. 

FAVOURITES,  PRESUMPTION  OF. 

Where  honeysuckles,  ripen'd  by  the  sun, 

Forbid  the  sun  to  enter ; — like  favourites, 

Made  proud  by  princes,  that  advance  their  pride 

Against  that  power  that  bred  it.  M.  A.  iii.  1. 

FAULT. 

I  need  not  be  barren  of  accusations ;  he  hath  faults,  with 
surplus,  to  tire  in  repetition.  C.  i.  1. 

Time  shall  unfold  what  plaited  cunning  hides  ; 
Who  cover  faults,  at  last  shame  them  derides.       K.  L.  i.  1. 

You  shall  find  there 

A  man,  who  is  the  abstract  of  all  faults 
That  all  men  follow.  A.  G.  i  4. 

Condemn  the  fault,  and  not  the  actor  of  it ! 
Why  every  fault's  condemn'd  ere  it  be  done : 
Mine  were  the  very  cipher  of  a  function, 
To  find  the  faults  whose  fine  stands  in  record, 
And  let  go  by  the  actor.  M.  M.  ii.  1. 

There's  something  in  me  that  reproves  my  fault ; 
But  such  a  headstrong  potent  fault  it  is, 
That  it  but  mocks  reproof.  T.  N.  iii.  4. 

There  were  none  principal ;  they  were  all  like  one 
another,  as  halfpence  are  ;  every  one  fault  seeming  mon- 
strous, till  his  fellow  fault  came  to  match  it.  A.  Y.  iii.  2. 

His  worst  fault  is,  he's  given  to  prayer  ;  he  is  something 
r  eevish  that  way  ;  but  nobody  but  has  his  fault : — but  let 
chat  pass.  M.  W.  i.  4. 

I  will  not  open  my  mouth  so  wide  as  a  bristle  nay  enter, 
in  way  of  thy  excuse.  T.  N.  i.  5 

r  AWNING. 

'Put,  Tut ! 

\jraco  mo  no  grace,  r.or  unc'o  rae  no  unc}e  \ 


iirtiniianj. 


FAWNING,—  continued. 

I  am  no  traitor's  uncle  ;  —  and  that  word  grace, 

In  an  ungracious  mouth,  is  but  profane.  R.  II.  ii.  3, 

PEAR. 

Fears  makes  devils  of  cherubims.  T.C.  iii.  2. 

Of  all  base  passions,  fear  is  most  accurs'd. 

H.  VI.  FT.  I.  7.  2. 

His  flight  was  madness  :  When  our  actions  do  not, 

Our  fears  do,  make  us  traitors.  M.  iv.  2. 

Those  linen  cheeks  of  thine 
Are  counsellors  to  fear.  M.  v.  3. 

Nothing  routs  us 
But  the  villainy  of  our  fears.  Gym  v.  2. 

0,  a  sin  in  war, 

-Damn'd  in  the  first  beginners  !  Gym.  v.  3. 

If  Caesar  hide  himself,  shall  they  not  whisper, 
Lo,  Caesar  is  afraid  ?  J.C.  ii.  2 

In  time  we  hate  that  which  we  often  fear.  A.  G.  i.  3. 

0,  these  flaws  and  starts, 
(Impostors  to  true  fear)  would  well  become 
A  woman's  story  at  a  winter's  fire.  M.  iii  4. 

This  is  the  very  painting  of  your  fear.  M,  iii.  i. 

You  make  me  strange, 
Even  to  the  disposition  that  I  owe, 
When  now  I  think  you  can  behold  such  sights, 
And  keep  the  natural  ruby  of  your  cheeks, 
While  mine  are  blanch'd  with  fear.  .        M.  iii.  4. 

Blind  fear,  that  seeing  reason  leads,  finds  safer  footing 
than  blind  reason  stumbling,  without  fear.  T.C.  iii.  2. 

The  devil  damn  thee  black,  thou  cream-fac'd  loon  ! 
Where  got'st  thou  that  goose  look  1  M.  v.  3. 

0,  let  my  lady  apprehend  no  fear:  in  all  Cupid's  pageant 
there  is  presented  no  monster.  T.  C.  iii.  2. 

There  is  not  such  a  word 
Spoke  of  in  Scotland,  as  this  term  of  fear. 

JET./F.  PT.  i.  iv.  1. 

The  love  of  wicked  friends  converts  to  fear  ; 
That  fear,  to  hate  ;  and  hate  turns  one,  or  both, 
To  -worthy  danger,  and  deserved  death.  R.  II.  v.  1  , 

Why,  what  should  be  the  fear  ? 
I  do  not  set  my  life  at  a  pin's  fee  ; 
And,  for  my  soul,  what  can  it  do  to  that, 
Being  a  thing  immortal  ?  U.  i.  4. 

m 


TEA       ijfEkflpmtiU  Dirtiauarij.       ra> 


FEAR,  —  continued. 

Let  not  the  world  see  fear  and  sad  distrust 

Govern  the  motion  of  a  kingly  eye.  K.  J.  y.  L 

I  am  sick  and  capable  of  fears  ; 
Oppress'd  with  wrongs,  and  therefore  full  of  fears  ; 
A.  widow,  husbandless,  subject  to  fears  ; 
A  woman,  naturally  born  to  fears.  K.  J.  iii.  1. 

I  have  almost  forgot  the  very  taste  of  fears  : 
The  time  has  been  my  senses  would  have  cool'd 
To  hear  a  night-shriek  ;  and  my  fell  of  hair 
Would,  at  a  dismal  treatise,  rouse,  and  stir, 
As  life  were  in't  :  I  have  supp'd  full  of  horrors  ; 
Direness,  familiar  to  my  slaughterous  thoughts, 
Cannot  once  start  me.  M.  T.  5. 

FSINT. 

'Tis  a  pageant 
To  keep  us  in  false  gaze.  0.  i.  3, 

FICKLENESS. 

Novelty  is  only  in  request  ;  and  it  is  dangerous  to  be 
aged  in  any  kind  of  course,  as  it  is  virtuous  to  be  constant 
in  any  undertaking.  There  is  scarce  truth  enough  alive  to 
make  societies  secure  ;  but  security  enough,  to  make  fellow- 
ships accursed  :  much  upon  this  riddle  runs  the  wisdom  of 
the  world.  M.M.  iii.  2. 

FICTIONS. 

More  strange  than  true.     I  never  may  believe 

These  antique  fables,  nor  these  fairy  toys.  M.  N.  v.  1. 


TRAGIC. 


What's  Hecuba  to  him,  or  he  to  Hecuba, 

That  he  should  weep  for  her  ?  H.  ii.  2. 

FIDELITY  (See  also  CONSTANCY,  LOVE). 

I'll  yet  follow 
^        The  wounded  chance  of  Antony,  though  my  reason 

Sits  in  the  wind  against  me.  A.  C.  iii.  8, 

Though  all  the  world  should  crack  their  duty  to  you, 

And  throw  it  from  their  soul ;  though  perils  did 

Abound,  as  thick  as  thought  could  make  them,  and 

Appear  in  forms  more  horrid  ;  yet  my  duty, 

As  doth  a  rock  against  the  chiding  flood, 

Should  the  approach  of  this  wild  river  break, 

And  stand  unshaken  yours.  P L  VHL  iii.  2 

Why  look  you  so  upon  me  ? 
I  am  but  sorry,  not  afear'd ;  delay'd, 
in 


Jjjjukisjirarinn  littmnnrtj. 


FIDELITY,—  continued. 

But  nothing  alter'd  :  What  I  was,  I  am  : 

More  straining  on  for  plucking  back.  W.T  >T.  3. 

The  loyalty  well  held  to  fools,  does  make 

Our  faith  mere  folly  :  —  yet,  he,  that  can  endure 

To  follow  with  allegiance  a  fallen  lord. 

Does  conquer  him  that  did  his  master  conquer, 

And  earns  a  place  i'  the  story.  A.C.  iii.  11. 

His  words  are  bonds,  his  oaths  are  oracles  ; 

His  love  sincere,  his  thoughts  immaculate  ; 

His  tears,  pure  messengers  sent  from  his  heart  ; 

His  heart  as  far  from  fraud,  as  heaven  from  earth. 

T.G.  ii.  7. 

Thou'rt  a  good  boy:  this  secresy  of  thine  shall  be  a  tailoi 
to  thee,  and  shall  make  thee  a  new  doublet  and  hose. 

M.  W.  iii.  3. 

For  all  the  sun  sees,  or 

The  close  earth  wombs,  or  the  profound  seas  hide 
In  unknown  fathoms,  will  I  break  my  oath 
To  this  my  fair  belov'd.  W.T.  iv.  3 

Countrymen  ! 

My  heart  doth  joy,  that  yet,  in  all  my  life, 
I  found  no  man  but  he  was  true  to  me.  J.  C.  T.  5 

Thou  shalt  not  see  me  blush, 
Nor  change  my  countenance  for  this  arrest  ; 
A  heart  unspotted  is  not  easily  daunted. 
The  purest  spring  is  not  so  free  from  mud, 
As  I  am  clear  from  treason  to  my  sovereign. 

H.  VI.  PT.  11.  iii.  1 

FILCHING. 

His  thefts  were  too  open  ;  his  filching  was  like  an  un 
skilful  singer,  he  kept  not  time.  M.  W.  i.  3 

FILIAL  INGRATITCDE  (See  also  CHILDREN). 
How  sharper  than  a  serpent's  tooth  it  is 
To  have  a  thankless  child.  K.  L.  i.  4. 

---  RESENTMENT  OF  PARENTAL  WRONGS. 

That  drop  of  blood  that's  calm  proclaims  me  bastard. 

H.  iv.  5. 

FISHING. 

There's  nothing  to  be  got  now-a-days,  unless  thou  canst 
fish  for't.  P.  P.  ii.  1. 

FIT  FOR  A  THIEF. 

Every  true  man's  apparel  fits  your  thief:   If   it  be  too 
little  for  your  thief,  your  true  man'tf-'nks  ,t  big  enough  ;  if 


$jjtilus|itimnii  Dirtianurtj.       FLA 


FIT  FOR  A  THIEF,  —  continued. 

it  be  too  big  for  your  thief,  your  thief  thinks  it  little  enough  : 
so  every  true  .nan's  apparel  fits  your  thief.          M.  M.  iv.  2. 

FLATTERY  (See  also  ADULATION,  PARAS/TES). 
0,  that  men's  ears  should  be 
To  counsel  deaf,  but  not  to  flattery  !  T.  A.  i.  2. 

The  learned  pate 

Ducks  to  the  golden  fool:  All  is  oblique; 
There's  nothing  level  in  our  cursed  natures, 
But  direct  villainy.  T.  A.  iv.  3. 

Why  this 

Is  the  world's  soul  ;  and  just  of  the  same  piece 
Is  every  flatterer's  spirit.  T.  A.  iii.  2. 

Every  one  that  flatters  thee, 

Is  no  friend  in  misery.  Poems. 

He  does  me  double  wrong, 
That  wounds  me  with  the  flatteries  of  his  tongue. 

R.  II.  iii.  2. 

0  villains,  vipers,  damn'd  without  redemption  ! 

Dogs,  easily  won  to  fawn  on  any  man  1  R.  II.  iii.  2. 

Ah  !  when  the  means  are  gone  that  buy  this  praise, 

The  breath  is  gone  whereof  this  oraise  is  made.    T.  A.  ii.  2. 

He  that  loves  to  be  flatter'd  is  worthy  the  flatterer. 
Heavens,  that  I  were  a  lord  !  T.  A.  L  L 

Why,  what  a  candy  deal  of  courtesy 
This  fawning  greyhound  then  did  proffer  me  ! 

H.IV.  pr.i.i.3. 

But  when  I  tell  him,  he  hates  flatterers, 
He  says,  he  does  ;  being  then  most  flatter'd.  J.C.iLl. 

Flattery's  the  bellows  blows  up  sin.  P.  P.  L  2. 

Because  I  cannot  flatter,  and  speak  fair, 
Smile  in  men's  faces,  smooth,  deceive,  and  cog, 
Duck  with  French  nods  and  apish  courtesy, 

1  must  be  held  a  rancorous  enemy.  .R.  HL  L  S. 

Why  these  looks  of  care  T 

Thy  flatterers  yet  wear  silk,  drink  wine,  lie  soft; 
Hug  their  diseas'd  perfumes,  and  have  forgot 
That  ever  Timon  was.     Shame  not  these  woods. 
By  putting  on  the  cunning  of  a  carper. 
Be  thou  a  flatterer  now,  and  seek  to  thrive 
By  that  which  has  undone  thee  :  hinge  thy  knee, 
And  let  his  very  breath  whom  thou'lt  observe, 
Blow  off  *hy  cap  ;  praise  his  most  vicious  strain, 

p-all      ixcellent.  T.  A.  it.  1 

188  12 


$Ijnfo0|inirhti  intinnan(.        POO 


F)  VTTERY,—  continued. 

I  must  prevent  thee,  Cimber. 
These  couchings,  and  these  lowly  courtesies, 
Might  fire  the  blood  of  ordinary  men, 
And  turn  pre-ordinance,  and  first  decree, 
Into  the  law  of  children.     Be  not  fond, 
To  think  that  Caesar  bears  such  rebel  blood, 
That  will  be  thaw'd  from  the  true  akuality, 
With  that  which  melteth  fools  ;  T  mean,  sweet  words, 
Low-crooked  curt'sies,  and  base  spaniel  fawning.  J.C.  iii.  1. 

For  the  love  of  grace, 

Lay  not  that  flattering  unction  to  your  soul.  H.  iii.  4. 

Nay,  do  not  think  I  flatter  : 
For  what  advancement  may  I  hope  from  thee, 
That  no  revenue  hast,  but  thy  good  spirits, 
To  feed  and  clothe  thee  ?  Why  should  the  poor  be  flatterM  f 
No,  let  the  candied  tongue  lick  absurd  pomp, 
And  crook  the  pregnant  hinges  of  the  knee 
Where  thrift  may  follow  fawning.  H.  iii.  2. 

'Tis  holy  sport  to  be  a  little  vain 

When  the  sweet  breath  of  flattery  conquers  strife. 

C.  E.  iii.  2. 

Sweet  poison  for  the  age's  tooth.  K.  J.  i.  1. 

They  clap  the  lubber  Ajax  on  the  shoulder; 
As  if  his  foot  were  on  brave  Hector's  breast.       T.  C.  iii.  3. 

FOLLOWERS. 

I  follow  him  to  serve  my  turn  upon  him  : 

We  cannot  all  be  masters,  nor  all  masters 

Cannot  be  truly  followed.  0.  i.  1. 

POOL. 

Why,  thou  silly  gentleman  I  0.  i.  3. 

Let  the  doors  be  shut  upon  him  ;  that  he  may  play  the 
fool  nowhere  but  in  his  own  house.  H.  iii.  1. 

Fools  on  both  sides  1  T.  C.  i.  1 

Alas,  poor  fool  1  how  have  they  baffled  thee  I         T.  N.  T.  1 
I  dare  not  call  them  fools  ;  but  this  I  think, 
When  they  are  thirsty,  fools  would  fain  have  drink. 

i.z.7.2 

This  fellow's  wise  enough  to  play  the  fool  ; 
And,  to  do  that  well,  craves  a  kind  of  wit  : 
He  must  observe  their  mood  on  whom  he  jests, 
The  quality  of  persons,  and  the  time  ; 

,  like  the  haggard,  check  at  every  feather 
comes  before  his  eye.     This  is  a  practice, 
|M 


FOO       ijjuJusjimiflii  Dirtianarij.       FOB 

i'OOL,—  continued. 

As  full  of  labour  as  a  wise  man's  art : 

For  folly,  that  he  wisely  shows,  is  fit ; 

But  wise  men,  folly-fallen,  quite  taint  their  wit.    T.  N.  iii  1. 

A  fool,  a  fool ! — I  met  a  fool  i'  the  forest, 

A  motley  fool ; — a  miserable  world  1 

As  I  do  live  by  food,  I  met  a  fool ; 

Who  laid  him  down,  and  bask'd  him  in  the  sun, 

And  rail'd  on  lady  Fortune,  in  good  terms, 

In  good  set  terms, — and  yet  a  motley  fool.  A.  Y.  li.  7 

I  am  sprighted  with  a  fool.  Cym.  ii.  3 

FOOLERY. 

Foolery,  Sir,  does  walk  about  the  orb,  like  the  sun ;  it 
shines  every  where.  T.  N.  iii.  1. 

Observe  him  for  the  love  of  mockery.  T.  N.  ii.  5. 

What  folly  I  commit,  I  dedicate  to  you.  T.C.  iii.  2. 

FOOLING. 

I  do  not  like  this  fooling.  T.C.  v.  2. 

They  fool  me  to  the  top  of  my  bent.  JET.  iii.  2. 

Beshrew  me,  the  knight's  in  admirable  fooling.  T.  N.  ii.  3 

fcOP. 

The  soul  of  this  man  is  in  his  clothes.  A.  W.  ii.  5 

FOREIGN. 

Whose  manners  still  our  tardy  apish  nation, 

Limps  after,  in  base  imitation.  R.IL  ii.  1. 

FORBEARANCE  (See  STRENGTH). 

FOREBODING. 

Yet,  again,  methinks, 

Some  unborn  sorrow,  ripe  m  fortune's  womb, 
Is  coming  toward  me.  R.  II.  ii.  2 

A  heavy  summons  lies  like  lead  upon  me.  M.  ii.  1 

I  have  an  ill-divining  soul : 
Methinks  I  see  thee  now  thou  art  below, 
As  one  dead  in  the  bottom  of  a  tomb : 
Either  my  eye-sight  fails,  or  thou  look'st  pale.    R.  J  iii  5 

The  skies  look  grimly, 

Aiid  threaten  present  blusters.  In  my  conscience, 
The  heavens  with  that  we  have  in  hand  are  angry, 
And  frown  upon  us.  W.  T.  iii,  4 

For  my  mind  misgives, 
Some  consequence,  yet  hanging  in  the  stars, 
Shall  biJ*«\y  begiu  bis  fearful 

m 


rou        JjjBJttijttsrifia  iirtiBUunj.        FOB 

FOREBODING,— continued. 

With  this  night's  revels  ;  and  expire  the  term 

Of  a  despised  life,  clos'd  in  my  breast, 

By  some  vile  forfeit  of  untimely  death.  R.J.  i.  4. 

In  what  particular  thought  to  work,  I  know  uot ; 

But,  in  the  gross  and  scope  of  mine  opinion, 

This  bodes  some  strange  eruption  to  our  state.          11.  i.  '• 

FORE-DOOM. 

Come,  seeling  night, 
Scarf  up  the  tender  eye  of  pitiful  day ; 
And,  with  thy  bloody  and  invisible  hand, 
Cancel  and  tear  to  pieces  that  great  bond 
Which  keeps  me  pale.  M.  iii.  2. 

I  will  drain  him  dry  as  hay ; 
Sleep  shall,  neither  night  nor  day, 
Hang  upon  his  pent-house  lid ; 
He  shall  live  a  man  forbid.  M.  i.  3. 

Ere  the  bat  hath  flown 

His  cloister' d  flight ;  ere,  to  black  Hecate's  summons, 
The  shard-borne  beetle,  with  his  drowsy  hums, 
Hath  rung  night's  yawning  peal,  there  shall  be  done 
A  deed  of  dreadful  note.  M.  iii.  2 

FORE-STALLER. 

Hang'd  himself  on  the  expectation  of  plenty.          M.  ii.  3 

FORGETFULNESS. 

'Tis  far  off; 

And  rather  like  a  dream  than  an  assurance 
That  my  remembrance  warrants.  T.  i.  2 

Like  a  dull  actor  now, 
I  have  forgot  my  part,  and  I  am  out, 
Even  to  a  Full  disgrace.  O.  v.  3 

FORGIVENESS. 

The  rarer  action  is 

In  virtue  than  in  vengeance :  they  being  penitent, 
The  sole  drift  of  my  purpose  doth  extend 
Not  a  frown  further.  T.  v.  1 

Kneel  not  to  me  ; 

The  power  that  I  have  on  you,  is  to  spare  you; 

The  malice  toward  you,  to  forgive  you :  Live, 

And  deal  with  others  better.  Cym.  v.  5 

Then  I'll  look  up ; 

My  fault  is  past.    But,  0,  what  form  of  prayer 
Can  serve  my  turn  ?    Forgive  me  my  foul  murder  !-«- 
Tbftt  cannot  be  j  «o<?e  I  am  still  possesj'd 

an 


FOR       lijniUBjiuriiitt  Dirtiaiunj.       FOB 

FOilG  1 VE  X  E  SS,  —continued. 

3f  thjse  effects  for  which  I  did  the  murder, — 
My  crown,  mine  own  ambition,  and  my  queen. 
May  one  be  pardon'd,  and  retain  the  offence  ?  H.  iii.  3. 

Hie  great  offence  is  dead, 
And  deeper  than  oblivion  do  we  bury 
The  'licensing  relicks  of  it.  A.  W.  v.  3. 

fcORLORN. 

Even  as  men  wrecked  upon  a  sand,  that  look  to  be  washed 
off  the  next  tide.  E.  V.  iv.  1. 

L-ORTITUDE. 

Nay,  good  my  fellows,  do  not  please  sharp  fate 

To  grace  it  with  your  sorrows  ;  bid  that  welcome 

Which  comes  to  punish  us,  and  we  punish  it, 

Seeming  to  bear  it  lightly.  A  C.  iv.  12. 

In  the  reproof  of  chance 

Lies  the  true  proof  of  men  :  The  sea  being  smooth, 
How  many  shallow  bauble  boats  dare  sail 
Upon  her  patient  breast,  making  their  way 
With  those  of  nobler  bulk ! 
But  let  the  ruffian  Boreas  once  enrage 
The  gentle  Thetis,  and,  anon,  behold 
The  strong-ribb'd  bark  through  liquid  mountains  cut, 
Bounding  between  the  two  moist  elements, 
Like  Perseus'  horse :  Where's  then  the  saucy  boat, 
Whose  weak  untimber'd  sides  but  even  now 
Co-rivall'd  greatness  ?  either  to  harbour  fled, 
Or  made  a  toast  for  Neptune.     Even  so, 
Doth  valour's  show,  and  valour's  worth,  divide 
In  storms  of  fortune :  for,  in  her  ray  and  brightness, 
The  herd  hath  more  annoyance  by  the  brize, 
Than  by  the  tiger ;  but  when  the  splitting  wind 
Makes  flexible  the  knees  of  knotted  oaks, 
And  flies  fled  under  shade, — why,  then,  the  thing  of  courage, 
As  rous'd  with  rage,  with  rage  doth  sympathize, 
And,  with  an  accent  tun'd  in  self-same  key, 
Returns  to  chiding  fortune.  T. C.  i.  3. 

Mine  honour  keeps  the  weather  of  my  fate.  T.C.  v.  3. 

FORTUNE. 

I  have  upon  a  high  and  pleasant  hill, 
Feign' d  Fortune  to  be  thron'd :  The  base  y  the  mount 
Is  rank'd  with  all  deserts,  all  kind  of  natures. 
That  labour  on  the  bosom  of  this  sphere, 
To  propagate  their  states :  amongst  them  all, 
Whose  eyes  are  on  this  sovereign  lady  flx'd, 
0»o  4°  f  person  ite  of  Timon's  frame, 


PCS 


,—  continued. 

Whom  Fortune,  with  her  ivory  hand,  wafts  to  her  ; 
Whose  present  {jrace  to  present  slaves  and  servants 
Translates  his  rivals.  * 

All  those  which  were  his  fellers  but  of  late 
(Some  better  than  his  value,)  ^a  the  moment 
Follow  his  strides,  his  lobbies  fill  with  tendance, 
Rain  sacrificial  whimperings  in  his  ear, 
Mako  sacred  even  his  stirrup,  and  through  him 
Drink  the  free  air.  *  *  * 

Whn  Fortune,  in  her  shift  and  change  of  mood, 
Scurco  down  her  late  belov'd,  all  his  dependants, 
Which  labour'd  after  him  to  the  mountain's  top, 
fjven  on  their  knees  and  hands,  let  him  slip  down, 
.Cot  one  accompanying  his  declining  foot.  T.  A.  i.  1. 

b  Fortune,  Fortune  !  all  men  call  thee  fickle.       E.  J.  iii.  5, 
,»"ill  Fortune  never  come  with  both  hands  full, 
$ut  write  her  fair  words  still  in  foulest  letters? 
She  either  gives  a  stomach  and  no  food,  — 
Such  are  the  poor,  in  health  ;  —  or  else  a  feast, 
And  takes  away  the  stomach,  —  such  are  the  rich, 
That  have  abundance,  and  enjoy  it  not.     H.IV.  FT.  n.  h    4. 

Twinn'd  brothers  of  one  womb,  — 
iVhose  procreation,  residence,  and  birth, 
Pjarce  is  dividant,  —  touch  them  with  several  fortunes, 
/he  greater  scorns  the  lesser  :     Not  nature, 
To  whom  all  sores  lay  siege,  can  bear  great  fortune, 
But  by  contempt  of  nature. 
Raise  me  this  beggar,  and  denude  that  lord  ; 
The  senator  shall  bear  contempt  hereditary, 
The  beggar,  native  honour. 
It  is  the  pasture  lards  the  brother's  sides, 
The  want  that  makes  him  lean.  T.  A.  iv.  6 

Here's  the  scroll, 
The  continent,  and  summary,  of  my  fortunes.     M.  V.  iii.  2 

Why,  then,  you  princes, 

Do  you  with  cheeks  abash'd  behold  our  works  ; 
And  think  them  shames,  which  are,  indeed,  nought  elsf 
But  the  protractive  trials  of  great  Jove, 
To  find  persistive  constancy  in  men  ? 
The  fineness  of  which  metal  is  not  found 
In  Fortune's  love  ;  for  then,  the  bold  and  coward, 
The  wise  and  fool,  the  artist  and  unread, 
The  hard  and  soft,  seem  all  affin'd  and  kin  : 
But  in  the  wind  and  tempest  of  her  frown, 
Distinction,  with  a  broad  and  powerful  fan, 
Puffing  at  all,  winnows  the  light  away  ; 

m 


FOR       Ijjabjparian  lirtinnarij.        FRA 

fORTUN  E ,  —continued. 

And  what  hath  mass,  or  matter,  by  itself 

Lies,  rich  in  virtue,  and  unmingled.  T.  C.  i.  3. 

How  some  men  creep  in  skittish  Fortune's  hall, 

While  othrrs  play  the  idiots  in  her  eyes  ! 

How  one  r»an  eats  into  another's  pride, 

While  pride  is  fasting  in  his  wantonness !  71(7.  iii.  3, 

Many  drtarn  not  to  find,  neither  deserve, 

And  yet  are  steep'd  in  favours.  Cym.  v.  4. 

A  Thousand  moral  paintings  I  can  show, 

That  shall  demonstrate  these  quick  blows  of  Fortune, 

More  pregnantly  than  words.     Yet  you  do  well, 

Jo  show  lord  Timon,  that  mean  eyes  have  seen 

The  foot  above  the  head.  T.  A.  i.  1 

I  see  men's  judgments  are 
A  parcel  of  their  fortunes  ;  and  things  outward 
To  draw  the  inward  quality  after  them, 
To  suffer  all  alike.  A.C.  iii.  11. 

When  Fortune  means  to  men  most  good, 
She  looks  upon  them  with  a  threatening  eye.       K.  J.  iii.  4, 

Be  cheerful ;  wipe  thine  eyes  : 

^,ome  falls  are  means  the  happier  to  arise.  Cym.  iv.  2. 

A.  good  man's  fortune  may  grow  out  at  heels.       K.  L.  ii.  2. 
That  strumpet,  Fortune.  K.  J.  iii.  1. 

Fortune  brings  in  some  boats  that  are  not  steerM. 

Cym.  iv.  3. 

Since  you  will  buckle  Fortune  on  my  back, 

To  bear  her  burden,  whe'r  I  will  or  no, 

I  must  have  patience  to  endure  the  load.  R.  HI.  iii.  7. 

Though  Fortune's  malice  overthrow  my  state, 

My  mind  exceeds  the  compass  of  her  wheel. 

H.  VI.  FT.  iii.  IT.  3. 

Fortune  is  merry, 

And  in  this  mood  will  give  us  any  thing.  J.C.  iii.  2. 

A  man  whom  Fortune  hath  cruelly  scratch'd. 

A.W.  T.2 

FORTUNE  TELLING  (See  also  CONJUROR). 

We  do  not  know  what  is  brought  to  pass  under  the  pro- 
fession of  fortune-telling.  M.  W.  iy.  2. 

FRACTURED  LIMB,  HEALED,  STRONGER  FOR  THE  ACCIDENT. 
And  therefore  be  assur'd,  my  good  lord  marshal, 
If  we  do  now  make  our  atonement  well, 
Our  peace  will,  like  a  broken  limb  united, 
Grow  stronger  for  the  breaking  H.  IV.  FT.  n.  iv  1 

Mi 


FRA       ijjabsjinrian  Btttinnar^         PKI 

FRAILTY. 

Frailty,  thy  name  is  woman !  fi.  i.  2 

Sometimes  we  are  devils  to  ourselves, 
When  we  will  tempt  the  frailty  of  our  powers, 
Presuming  on  their  changeful  potency.  T.  (7.  iv.  4 

Nay,  women  are  frail  too  : 
Ay,  as  the  glasses  w'>£re  they  view  themselves, 
Which  are  as  easy  broke  as  they  make  forms.      M.  M.  5i.  4. 

Look,  here  comes  one  ;  a  gentlewoman  of  mine, 

Who,  falling  in  the  flames  of  her  own  youth, 

Hath  blistered  her  report.  M.  M.  ii.  3. 

FRIBBLES  (See  also  COXCOMBS). 

Ah,  how  thp  poor  world  is  pestered  with  such  water-fliop  : 
diminutive  of  nature  !  T.  C.  v,  i 

I  remember,  when  the  fight  was  done. 
When  I  was  dry  with  rage  and  extreme  toil, 
Breathless  and  faint,  leaning  upon  my  sword, 
Came  there  a  certain  lord,  neat,  trimly  dress'd, 
Fresh  as  a  bridegroom ;  and  his  chin,  new  reap'd, 
Show'd  like  a  stubble  land  at  harvest  home. 
He  was  perfumed  like  a  milliner ; 
And  'twixt  his  finger  and  his  thumb  he  held 
A  pouncet-box,  which  ever  and  anon 
He  gave  his  nose,  and  took't  away  again  ; — 
Who,  therewith  angry,  when  it  next  came  there, 
Took  it  in  snuff; — and  still  he  smil'd,  and  talk'd 
An?.  *<*  the  soldiers  bore  dead  bodies  by, 
He  call'd  them  untaught  knaves,  unmannerly, 
To  bring  a  slovenly  unhandsome  corse 
Betwixt  the  wind  and  his  nobility. 
With  many  holiday  and  lady  terms 
He  question'd  me :  among  the  rest,  demanded 
My  prisoners,  in  your  Majesty's  behalf. 
I  then,  all  smarting,  with  my  wounds  being  cold, 
To  be  so  pester'd  with  a  popinjay, 
Out  of  my  grief  a*id  my  impatience, 
Answer'd  neglectingly,  I  know  not  what ; 
He  should,  or  should  not ;  for  he  made  me  mad, 
To  see  him  shine  so  brisk,  and  smell  so  sweet, 
And  talk  so  like  a  waiting  gentlewoman, 
Of  guns,  and  drums,  and  wounds,  (God  save  the  saark  1] 
And  telling  me,  the  sovereign'st  thing  on  earth 
Was  parmaceti,  for  an  inward  bruise  ; 
And  that  it  was  great  pity,  so  it  was, 
That  villainous  saltpetre  should  be  digged 
Oat  of  the  bowels  of  the  harmless  earth, 

110 


IJjnkrspfiirifln  Dictiniiarq.        F« 


FRIBBLES,—  continued. 

Which  many  a  good  tall  fellow  had  destroyed 

So  cowardly  ;  and,  but  for  these  vile  guns, 

Ho  would  himself  have  been  a  soldier. 

This  bald  unjointed  chat  of  his,  my  lord, 

J  answer'd  indirectly,  as  I  said  ; 

And,  I  beseech  you,  let  not  this  report 

Come  current  for  an  accusation, 

Botwixt  my  love  and  your  high  Majesty.     H.  IV.  PT.  I.  i  i 

FRIEND. 

Since  my  dear  soul  was  mistress  of  her  choice, 
And  could  of  men  distinguish  her  election, 
She  had  seal'd  thee  for  herself:  for  thou  hast  been 
As  one,  in  suffering  all,  that  suffers  nothing  ; 
A  man,  that  fortune's  buffets  and  rewards 
Hast  ta'en  with  equal  thanks  ;  and  bless'd  are  those 
Whose  blood  and  judgment  are  so  well  commingled, 
That  they  are  not  a  pipe  for  Fortune's  finger 
To  sound  what  stop  she  please  :  Give  me  that  man 
That  is  not  passion's  slave,  and  I  will  wear  him 
In  my  heart's  core,  ay,  in  my  heart  of  heart, 
As  I  do  thee.  H.  iii.  2. 

Who,  in  want,  a  hollow  friend  doth  try, 
Directly  seasons  him  an  enemy.  H.  iii.  2. 

0,  you  gods  !  think  I,  what  need  we  have  any  friends  ? 
they  were  the  most  needless  creatures  living,  if  we  should 
never  have  need  of  them  ?  They  would  most  resemble 
sweet  instruments  hung  up  in  cases,  that  keep  their  sounde 
to  themselves.  We  are  born  to  do  benefits.  0  what  a  pre- 
cious comfort  'tis  to  have  so  many  like  brothers,  command- 
ing one  another's  fortunes  1  T.  A.  i.  2 

Commend  me  to  him  ;  I  will  send  his  ransom  ; 
And,  being  enfranchis'd,  bid  him  come  to  me  ;  — 
'Tis  not  enough  to  help  the  feeble  up, 
But  to  support  him  after.  T.  A.  \.  1. 

The  dearest  friend  to  me,  the  kindest  man, 
The  best-condition'd  and  unweary'd  spirit 
In  doing  courtesies  ;  and  one  in  whom 
The  antient  Roman  honour  more  appears, 
Than  any  that  draws  breath  in  Italy.  M.  V.  iii.  2 

I  count  myself  in  nothing  else  so  happy, 
As  in  a  soul  remembering  my  good  friends  ; 
And  as  my  fortune  ripens  with  my  love, 
It  shall  be  still  my  true  love's  recompense.  R,  JL  ii.  3 

We  still  have  slept  together, 
at  an  instant,  learn'd,  play'd,  eat  to 
Kt 


FBI        ftJMtktifift'iiAi  Sirtiaunnf,        FBS 

FRIEND,— continued. 

And  wheresoe'er  we  went,  like  Juno's  swans 

Still  we  went  coupled  and  inseparable.  A.  Y.  i.  3. 

So  we  grew  together, 
Like  to  a  double  cherry,  seeming  parted, 
But  yet  a  union  in  partition, 
Two  lovely  berries  moulded  on  one  stem.  M.  N.  iii.  2. 

Pay  him  six  thousand,  and  deface  the  bond, 

Double  six  thousand,  and  then  treble  that, 

Before  a  friend  of  this  description 

Shall  lose  a  hair  through  my  Bassanio's  fault.     M.  V.  iii.  2. 

The  amity  that  wisdom  knits  not,  folly  may  easily  untie. 

T.  O.  ii.  3. 

I  should  fear  those,  who  dance  before  me  now, 
Would  one  day  stamp  upon  me :  It  has  been  done  ; 
Men  shut  their  doors  against  a  setting  sun.  T.  A.  i.  2. 

Every  man  will  be  thy  friend 

While  thou  hast  wherewithal  to  spend  ; 

But  if  store  of  crowns  be  scant, 

No  man  will  supply  thy  want.  Poeau. 

There  are  no  tricks  in  plain  and  simple  faith; 

But  hollow  men,  like  horses  hot  at  hand, 

Make  gallant  show  and  promise  of  their  mettle; 

But  when  they  should  endure  the  bloody  spur, 

They  fall  their  crests,  and,  like  deceitful  jades, 

Sink  in  the  trial.  J.  O.  iv.  2. 

Is  all  the  counsel  that-we  two  have  shar'd, 

The  sisters'  vows,  the  hours  that  we  have  spent, 

When  we  have  chid  the  hasty-footed  time 

For  parting  us, — 0,  is  all  now  forget  ? 

All  school-days'  friendship,  childhood  innocence? 

M.  N.  iii.  2. 

The  great  man  down,  you  mark  his  favourite  flies, 
The  poor  advanc'd  makes  friends  of  enemies. 
And  hitherto  doth  love  on  fortune  tend  ; 
For  who  not  needs,  shall  never  lack  a  friend  ; 
And  who  in  want  a  hollow  frier  i  dcth  try, 
Directly  seasons  him  an  enemj.  H.  iii.  2. 

Friendship's  full  of  dregs.  21  A.  i.  2, 

Canst  the  a  the  .vnsoience  lack. 
To  think  I  thill  lack  friends  ?     Seoutv.  11 3  Le&rt ; 
If  I  could  broach  the  vessels  of  my  love, 
And  try  the  argument  of  hearts  by  borrowing, 
Men,  and  men's  fortunes,  could  I  franklr  use. 
A*  I  can  bid  thee  speak.  T.A.iL'i 


FRI        Ijraktffpmio  itttinnattj.        FRI 

FRIEND,— continued. 

Thou  dost  conspire  against  thy  friend,  lago, 

If  thou  but  think'st  him  wrong'd,  and  mak'st  his  ear 

A  rtranger  to  thy  thoughts.  O.  iii.  3 

0  let  me  twine 

Mine  arms  about  that  body,  where  against 
My  grained  ash  an  hundred  times  hath  broke, 
And  scar'd  the  moon  with  splinters !     Here  I  clip 
The  anvil  of  my  sword  ;  and  do  contest 
AH  hotly  and  as  nobly  with  thy  love, 
As  ever  in  ambitious  strength  I  did 
Contend  against  thy  valour.  C.  IT.  5 

Friendship  is  constant  in  all  other  things, 

Save  in  the  office  &nd  affairs  of  love.  M.  A.  ii.  1 

By  heaven,  I  cannot  flatter !     I  defy 
The  tongues  of  soothers  ;  but  a  braver  place 
In  my  heart's  love,  hath  no  man  than  yourself; 
Nay,  task  me  to  my  word ;  approve  me,  lord. 

H.  IV.  PT.  i.  iy.  1 
Brutus  hath  riv'd  my  heart: 
A  friend  should  bear  his  friend's  infirmities, 
But  Brutus  makes  mine  greater  than  they  are.     J.  C.  iv.  3. 

Give  him  all  kindness  :  I  had  rather  have 

Such  men  my  friends,  than  enemies.  J.  C.  v.  4 

That  we  have  been  familiar, 
Ingrate  forgetfulness  shall  poison,  rather 
Than  pity  note  how  much.  C.  v.  2. 

Now  do  I  play  the  touch, 

To  try  if  thon  be  current  gold  indeed.  B.  HI.  iv.  2. 

•  COOLING. 


I  have  not  from  your  eyes  that  gentleness, 

And  show  of  love,  as  I  was  wont  to  have  : 

You  bear  too  stubborn,  and  too  strange  a  hand, 

Over  your  friend  that  loves  you.  J.  0.  i.  2, 

Thou  hast  describ'd 

A  hot  friend  cooling :  Ever  note,  Lucilius, 
When  love  begins  to  sicken  and  decay, 
It  useth  an  enforced  ceremony.  /.  C.  iv.  2 

Mere  fetches : 
The  images  of  revolt  and  flying  off.  K.  L.  li.  4 

FRIENDSHIP  ASSIMILATES  FRIENDS. 

For  in  companions 

That  do  converse  and  waste  the  time  together. 
Whose  souls  do  bear  an  equal  yoke  of  love, 

143 


FRJ        |>jjnb3|imiiin  iiriinunrij. 


FRIENDSHIP  ASSIMILATES  FRIENDS,  —  continued. 
There  must  be  needs  a  like  proportion 
Of  lineaments,  of  manners,  and  of  spirit.  M.  V.  HL  4 

FRIGIDITY  (See  also  COLDNESS). 

What  a  frosty-spirited  rogue  is  this  I  H.  IV.  PT.  i.  ii.  3 

FROWN. 

He  parted  frowning  from  me,  as  if  ruin 

Leap'd  from  his  eyes.  H.  Vlll.  ii.  U 

FUNERAL  RITES. 

Her  obsequies  have  been  as  far  enlarg'd 

As  we  have  warranty  :  Her  death  was  doubtful  ; 

And,  but  that  great  command  o'er-sways  the  order, 

She  should  in  ground  unsanctiSed  have  lodg'd 

Till  -the  last  trumpet;  for  charitable  prayers, 

Shards,  flints,  and  pebbles,  should  be  thrown  on  her  , 

Yet  here  she  is  allow'd  her  virgin  rites, 

Her  maiden  strewmente,  and  the  bringing  home 

Of  bell,  and  burial.  H  v.  1, 

Let  it  be  so,  and  let  Andronicus 

Make  this  his  latest  farewell  to  their  souls. 

In  peace  and  honour  rest  you  here,  my  sons 

Rome's  readiest  champions,  repose  you  here, 

Secure  from  worldly  chances  and  mishaps.       Tit.  And.  i.  2 


Though  fond  nature  bids  us  all  lament, 
Yet  nature's  tears  are  reason's  merriment  R.  J.  iv.  5 

But  yet 

It  is  our  trick  ;  nature  hor  custom  holds, 
Let  shame  say  what  it  will.  H.  iv.  7 

Comfort,  dear  mother  ;  God  is  much  displeus'd, 
That  you  take  with  unthankfulness  his  doing  ; 
In  common  worldly  things,  'tis  call'd—  ungrateful, 
With  dull  unwillingness  to  repay  a  debt, 
Which  with  a  bounteous  hand  was  kindly  lent.    R.  III.  ii.  2 

FURY. 

0,  I  warrant,  how  he  mammock'  d  it  !  (7.  1.  3 

Let  me  speak  ;  and  let  me  rail  so  high, 
That  the  false  housewife,  Fortune,  break  hor  wheel, 
Provok'd  by  mv  offence.  A.C.  iv.  lli 

I  understand  a  fury  in  your  words, 
But  not  the  words.  0,  if,  2 

FUTURI  FY 

0  that  a  man  might  know 
The  end  of  this  day's  business,  ere  it  come  I  /.  C.  T.  1, 

144 


JAI       Ijjnbspnirifltt  IHrtioiinnj.       otta 


GAIETY. 

See,  where  she  comes,  apparell'd  like  the  spring.  P.  P.  i.  1. 
Flora,  peering  in  April's  front.  W.T.  iv.  3 

GALLANTS. 

Trim  gallants,  full  of  courtship  and  of  state.         L.  L.  v.  2. 

Travell'd  gallants 
That  fill  the  court  with  quarrels,  talk,  and  tailors. 

H.VUI.  i.  S 

GENTLEMAN. 

I'll  be  sworti  thou  art ; 

Thy  tongue,  thy  face,  thy  limbs,  actions,  and  spirit, 
Do  give  thee  five-fold  blazon.  T.  N.  i.  4. 

A  gentleman  born,  master  parson,  who  writes  himself 
armigero  ;  on  any  bill,  warrant,  quittance,  or  obligation, 
armigero.  M.  W.  i.  J . 

GENTLEMEN. 

We  are  gentlemen, 

That  neither  in  our  hearts,  nor  outward  eyes, 
Envy  the  great,  nor  do  the  low  despise.    '  P.  P.  ii.  3 

GEOGRAPHY. 

Peering  in  maps  for  ports,  and  piers,  \\\\'\  roads.  M.  V.  i.  1. 

ftHOST  (See  also  APPARITIONS,  SPIRITS,  TERROR,  GUILT). 
For  it  is,  as  the  air,  invulnerable, 

And  our  vain  blows  malicious  mockery.  H.  i.  1. 

Angels,  and  ministers  of  grace,  defend  us ! 
Be  thou  a  spirit  of  health,  or  goblin  damn'd, 
Bring  with  thee  airs  from  heaven,  or  blasts  from  bell, 
Be  thy  intents  wicked  or  charitable, 
Thou  com'st  in  such  a  questionable  shape, 
That  I  will  speak  to  thee.  H.  i.  4. 

But,  soft :  behold!  lo  where  it  comes  again  ! 

I'll  cross  it,  though  it  blast  me.— Stay,  illusion ! 

If  thou  hast  any  sound,  or  use  a  voice, 

Speak  to  me.  H.  i.  1 

What  may  this  mean, 

That  thou,  dead  corse,  again,  in  complete  steel, 
Revisit' st  thus  the  glimpses  of  the  moon, 
Making  night  hideous  ;  and  we.  fools  of  nature. 
So  horridly  to  shaka  our  disposition, 

146  U 


QHO       $jjak!ifimies  Birihtiflnf.        ou, 

GHOST,— continued. 

With  thoughts  beyond  the  reaches  of  our  souls  T 

Say,  why  is  this  ?  H.  \.  4. 

My  hour  is  almost  come, 
When  I  to  sulphurous  and  tormenting  flames 
Must  render  up  myself.  77.  i.  5 

0,  answer  me : 

Let  me  not  burst  in  ignorance  !  but  tell, 
Why  thy  canoniz'd  bones,  hears'd  in  death, 
Have  burst  their  cerements  !  why  the  sepulchre, 
Wherein  we  saw  thee  quietly  inurn'd 
Hath  op'd  his  ponderous  and  marble  jaws, 
To  cast  thee  up  again.  H,  i.  4 

Why,  what  care  I  ?     If  thou  canst  nod,  speak  too, — 
If  charnel-houses,  and  our  graves,  must  send 
Those  that  we  bury,  back,  our  monuments 
Shall  be  the  maws  of  kites.  M.  iii.  4. 

The  ghost  of  Caesar  hath  appear'd  to  me 
Two  several  times  by  night:  at  Sardis,  once  ; 
And,  this  last  night,  here  in  Philippi  fields. 
I  know,  my  hour  is  come.  J.C.  v.  5. 

BIFTS  (See  also  LOVE  TOKENS). 

Well,  God  give  them  wisdom  that  have  it :  and  those  that 
are  fools,  let  them  use  their  talents.  T.  N.  i.  5. 

A  giving  hand,  though  foul,  shall  have  fair  praise. 

L.  L.  iv.  1. 
Gifts  then  seem 

Most  precious,  when  the  giver  we  esteem.  Poem*. 

Win  her  with  gifts,  if  she  respect  not  words  ; 
Dumb  jewels  often,  in  their  silent  kind, 
More  quick  than  words,  do  move  a  woman's  mind. 

T.G.  iii.  1. 

She  prizes  not  such  trifles  as  these  are : 
The  gifts,  she  looks  from  me,  are  pack'd  and  lock'd 
Up  in  my  heart ;  which  I  have  given  already, 
But  not  deliver^.  W,  T.  iv.  3. 

Seven  hundred  pounds,  and  possibilities,  is  good  gifts. 

M.  W.  i.  1 
I  am  not  in  the  giving  vein  to  day.  R.  III.  iv.  2. 

QLORY. 

Glory  is  like  a  circle  in  the  water, 

Which  never  ceaseth  to  enlarge  itself, 

'Till,  by  broad  spreading,  it  disperse  to  nought. 

M.VLn.i.12. 
1M 


SOL       $jrah0{uanan  Sirtioiunj.        GOI 

GOLD  (See  also  MONET). 

Saint-seducing  gold.  R.J.i.1. 

0  thou  sweet  king-killer,  and  dear  divorce 

'Twixt  natural  eon  and  sire  I  thou  bright  defiler 

Of  Hymen's  purest  bed  I  thou  valiant  Mars  1 

Thou  ever  young,  fresh,  lovM,  and  delicate  wooer, 

Whose  blush  doth  thaw  the  consecrated  snow 

That  lies  on  Dian's  lap !  thou  visible  god, 

That  solder'st  close  impossibilities, 

And  mak'st  them  kiss  1  that  speak' st  with  every  tongue, 

To  every  purpose !  T.  A.  iv.  3 

For  this  the  foolish  over-careful  fathers 

Have  broke  their  sleep  with  thoughts,  their  brains  with  care» 

Their  bonos  with  industry  ; 

For  this  they  have  engrossed  and  pil'd  up 

The  cankered  heaps  of  strange-achieved  gold ; 

For  this  they  have  been  thoughtful  to  invest 

Their  sons  with  arts,  and  martial  exercises  \ 

When,  like  the  bee,  tolling  from  every  flower, 

The  virtuous  sweets ; 

Our  thighs  are  pack'd  with  wax,  our  mouths  with  honey, 

We  bring  it  to  the  kive ;  and,  like  the  bees, 

Are  murder'd  for  our  pains.  H.  IF".  PT.  11.  iv.  4, 

And  'tis  gold 

Which  makes  the  true  man  kill'd,  and  saves  the  thief; 
Nay,  sometimes  hangs  both  thief  and  true  man:  what 
Can  it  not  do,  and  undo  ?  Cym.  ii.  3. 

Thus  much  of  this,  will  make  black  white ;  foul,  fair ; 

Wrong,  right ;  base,  noble ;  old,  young ;  coward,  valiant. 

Ha,  ye  gods !   Why  this  ?   What,  this,  you  gods  ?   Why  thii 

Will  lug  your  priests  and  servants  from  your  sides  ; 

Pluck  stout  meu's  pillows  from  below  their  heads : 

This  yellow  slave 

Will  knit  and  break  religions ;  bless  the  accurs'd; 

Make  the  hoar  leprosy  ador'd ;  place  thieves, 

And  give  them  title,  knee,  and  approbation, 

With  senators  on  the  bench :  this  is  it, 

That  makes  the  wappen'd  widow  wed  again  ; 

She,  whom  the  spital  house,  and  ulcerous  sores, 

Would  oast  the  gorge  at ;  this  embalms  and  spices 

To  the  April  day  again.  T.  A.  iv.  3 

There  is  thy  gold ;  worse  poison  to  men's  souls, 

Doing  more  murders  in  this  loathsome  world, 

Than  these  poor  compounds  that  thou  mayest  not  sell. 

£./.».*, 
Vf 


OOL        ^jiahspeiirian  iirtiflnanj.       GOB 

GOLD,— continued. 

See,  sons, — what  things  you  are  ! 
How  quickly  nature  falls  into  revolt, 
When  gold  becomes  her  object.  H.  IV.  PT.  n.  iv.  4 

Know'st  thou  not  any  whom  corrupting  gold 
Would  tempt  into  a  close  exploit  of  death  ?        R.  HI.  17. 2 
I  know  a  discontented  gentleman, 
Whose  humble  means  match  not  his  haughty  mind : 
Gold  were  as  good  as  twenty  orators, 

And  will,  no  doubt,  tempt  him  to  any  thing.      R.  III.  iv.  2. 
0  thou  touch  of  hearts !  T.  A.  iv.  3. 

GOOD  MAN,  COMMERCIAL  DEFINITION  OF  A. 

My  meaning  in  saying  he  is  a  good  man,  is  to  have  you 
understand  me,  he  is  sumcient.  M.  V.  i.  3. 

GOOD  MANNERS. 

When  good  manners  shall  lie  all  in  one  or  two  men's 
hands,  and  they  unwash'd  too,  'tis  a  foul  thing.  R.  J.  i.5. 

GOODNESS  TO  BE  ALWAYS  PREFERRED. 

Angels  are  bright  still,  though  the  brightest  fell.     M.  iv.  3. 

GOOD  THINGS. 

Well,  I  cannot  last  for  ever :  But  it  was  always  yet  the 
trick  of  our  English  nation,  if  they  have  a  good  thing,  to 
make  it  too  common.  If  you  will  needs  say  I  am  an  old 
man,  you  should  give  me  rest.  I  would  to  God  my  name 
were  not  so  terrible  to  the  enemy  as  it  is.  I  were  better  to 
be  eaten  to  death  with  rust,  than  to  be  scoured  to  nothing 
with  perpetual  motion.  H.  IV.  FT.  n.  i.  2. 

GOOD  WOMEN. 

One  in  ten,  -*uoth  a' !  an  we  might  have  a  good  woman 
born  but  eve-y  blazing  star,  or  at  an  earthquake,  'twould 
mend  the  lottery  well :  a  man  may  draw  his  heart  out  ere 
he  pluck  one.  A.  W.  i.  3 

GOOD  WORKS 

How  far  that  little  candle  throws  his  beams  ! 

So  shines  a  good  deed  in  a  naughty  world.  M.  V,  v.  I. 

GORMANDIZING. 

Fat  paunches  have  lean  pates  ;  and  dainty  bits 

Make  rich  the  ribs,  but  bank'rout  quite  the  wits.    L.  L.  i.  1 

Make  less  thy  b"dy,  hence,  and  more  thy  grace : 

Leave  gormandizing.  H.  IV.  PT.  n.  v.  5 

Thou  shalt  not  gormandize, 
As  thou  has  don«  with  me : 
And  sleep,  and  snore,  and  rend  apparel  out         M.  V.  ii.  5 


GRA       ^akespenrian  Sutiananj. 


GRANDAJVI. 

A  grandam's  name  is  little  less  in  love, 

Than  is  the  doating  title  of  a  mother  ; 

They  are  as  children,  but  one  step  below  ; 

Even  of  your  mettle,  >f  your  very  blood.  R.  III.  iv.  4 

GRATITUDE. 

I  have  five  hundred  crowns, 
The  thrifty  hire  I  sav'd  under  your  father, 
Which  I  did  store  to  be  my  fustcr  nurse, 
When  service  should  in  my  old  limbs  lie  lame, 
And  unregarded  age  in  corners  thrown  ; 
Take  that:  anil  He  that  doth  the  ravens  feed, 
Yea,  providently  caters  for  the  sparrow, 
Bo  comfort  to  mine  age.  A.Y.  ii.  3. 

Thou  canst  not  in  the  course  of  gratitude,  but  be  a  diligent 
follower  of  mine.  Cym.  iii.  5 

Kind  gentleman,  your  pains 
Are  register'  d,  where  every  day  I  turn 
The  leaf  to  read  them.  M.  i.  S. 

Let  never  day  nor  night  unhallow'd  pass, 
But  still  remember  what  the  Lord  hath  done. 

H.  VI.  FT.  n.  ii.  L 
Would  thou  had'st  less  deserv'd  ; 
That  the  proportion  both  of  thanks  and  payment 
Might  have  been  mine  1  M.  i.  4. 

GRAVE. 

Secure  from  worldly  chances  and  mishaps  1 

Here  lurks  no  treason,  here  no  envy  swells, 

Here  grow  no  damned  grudges  ;  here  are  no  storms, 

No  noise,  but  silence  and  eternal  sleep.  Tit.  And.  i.  2. 

The  grave  doth  gape,  and  doting  death  is  near.     H.  V.  ii.  1 

Let  us 

Find  out  the  prettiest  daisied  spot  we  can, 
And  make  him,  with  our  pikes  and  partizans, 
A  grave.  Cym.  iv.  2. 


And  let  my  grave-stone  be  your  oracle.  T.  A.  T.  3. 

GRAVITATION. 

-  And  you  may  know  t>y  my  size,  that  I  have  a  kind 
of  alacrity  in  sinking  ;  if  the  bottom  were  as  deep  as  boll, 
I  should  down.  M.  W.  iii.  6 

GRAVITY,  AFFECTED. 

There  are  a  sort  of  men,  whose  visages 

Do  cream  and  mantle,  like  a  standing  pond  ; 


SRA        lljakfspnirinn  Dutinanrq. 


OR  A  V  IT  Y,  AFFKC  TED,—  cmitiitued. 

And  do  a  wilful  stillness  entertain, 

With  purpose  to  be  dress'd  in  an  opinion 

Of  wisdom,  gravity,  profound  conceit  ; 

As  who  should  say,  I  am  Sir  Oracle, 

And  when  I  ope  my  lips,  let  no  dog  bark  !  M.  V.  i.  1, 

GREATNESS  (See  also  KINGS,  AUTHORITY). 

Some  are  born  great  :  —  some  achieve  greatness  ;  —  som« 
have  greatness  thrust  upon  them.  T.  N.  iii.  4. 

Rightly  to  be  great, 
Is,  not  to  stir  without  great  argument  ; 
But  greatly  to  find  quarrel  in  a  straw, 
When  honour's  at  the  stake.  H.  iv.  4. 

Would  you  praise  Caesar,  say,  —  Caesar  ;  go  no  further. 

A.G.  iii.  2. 

Why,  man,  he  doth  bestride  the  narrow  world, 

Like  a  Colossus  ;  and  we  petty  men 

Walk  under  his  huge  legs,  and  peep  about, 

To  find  ourselves  dishonourable  graves.  J.C.  i.  2. 

This  man 

Is  now  become  a  god  ;  and  Cassius  is 
A  wretched  creature,  and  must  bend  his  body, 
If  Caesar  carelessly  but  nod  at  him.  J.C.  i.  2. 

The  abuse  of  greatness  is,  when  it  disjoins 
Remorse  from  power.  /.  C.  ii.  1. 

Great  men  may  jest  with  saints  :  'tis  wit  in  them  ; 
But,  in  the  less,  foul  profanation. 
That,  in  the  captain's  but  a  choleric  word, 
Which  in  the  soldier  is  flat  blasphemy.  M.  M.  ii.  2. 

9REETING  (See  also  SALUTATION). 

A  hundred  thousand  welcomes  :  I  could  weep, 

And  I  could  laugh  ;  I  am  light,  and  heavy  :  Welcome  : 

A  curse  begin  at  very  root  of  his  heart, 

That  is  not  glad  to  see  thee!  C.  ii.  1. 

The  Lord  in  heaven  bless  thee,  noble  Harry  !       H.  V.  iv.  1, 

God-a-mercy,  old  heart!  thou  speakest  cheerfully. 

H.  V.  iv.  1 

Why  have  you  stolen  upon  us  thus  !  You  come  not 
Like  Caesar's  sister  ;  the  wife  of  Antony 
Should  have  an  army  for  an  usher,  and 
The  neighe  of  horse  to  tell  of  her  approach, 
Long  ere  she  did  appear  ;  the  trees  by  the  way, 
Should  have  borne  men  ;  and  expectation  fainted. 
Longing  for  what  it  had  not  :  nay,  the  dust 
IM 


SRE       $}sfctfpmua  SHrthiiarij.       ow 

GREETING,— wnlimted. 

Should  have  ascended  to  the  roof  of  heaven, 

Rais'd  by  your  populous  troops  :  But  you  are  come 

A  market-maid  to  Rome ;  and  have  prevented 

The  ostentation  of  our  love,  which,  left  unshown, 

Is  often  left  unlov'd  :  we  should  have  met  you 

By  sea,  and  land ;  supplying  every  stage 

With  an  augmented  greeting.  A.C  Hi.  6. 

SIMPLE. 

Trust  me,  sweet, 

Out  of  this  silence  yet  I  pick'd  a  welcome ; 
And  in  the  modesty  of  fearful  duty 
I  read  as  much,  as  from  the  rattling  tongue 
Of  saucy  and  audacious  eloquence. 
Love,  therefore,  and  tongue-tied  simplicity 
In  least,  speak  most,  to  my  capacity.  M.  N.  v.  1 

ORIEF  (See  also  LAMENTATION,  SORROW,  TEARS). 

Men 

Can  counsel,  and  speak  comfort  to  that  grief 
Which  they  themselves  not  feel ;  but,  tasting  it, 
Their  counsel  turns  to  passion,  which  before 
Would  give  preceptial  medicine  to  rage, 
Fetter  strong  madness  with  a  silken  thread, 
Charm  ache  with  air.  and  agony  with  words. 
No,  no ;  'tis  all  men's  office  to  speak  patience 
To  those  that  wring  under  a  load  of  sorrow ; 
But  no  man's  virtue,  nor  sufficiency, 
To  be  so  moral,  when  he  shall  endure 
The  like  himself:  therefore  give  me  no  counsel ; 
My  griefs  cry  louder  than  advertisement.  M.  A.v.\. 

When  remedies  are  past,  the  griefs  are  ended, 
By  seeing  the  worst,  which  late  on  hopes  depended. 
To  mourn  a  mischief  that  is  past  and  gone, 
Is  the  next  way  to  draw  new  mischief  on. 
What  cannot  be  preserv'd  when  fortune  takes, 
Patience  her  injury  a  mockery  makes. 
The  robb'd,  that  smiles,  steals  something  from  the  thief: 
He  robs  himself,  that  spends  a  bootless  grief.  0.  i.  3. 

I  cannot  but  remember  such  things  were 
That  were  most  precious  to  me.  M.  iv.  3. 

Why  tell  you  me  of  moderation  ? 
The  grief  is  fine,  full,  perfect,  which  I  taste, 
And  no  Jess  in  a  sense  as  strong 
As  that  which  causeth  it :  How  can  I  moderate  it  T 
If  I  could  temporize  with  my  affection, 
Or  brew  it  *x>  a  weak  and  colder  palate, 
1U 


GRI       6|tk*ipt<mt  fKrttnnnnj.       oiu 

GRIEF, — continued. 

The  like  allayment  could  I  give  my  grief; 

My  love  admits  no  qualifying  cross  : 

No  more  my  grief,  in  such  a  precious  loss.  T.  C.  iv.  4 

The  heart  hath  treble  wrong, 
When  it  is  barr'd  the  aidance  of  the  tongue.  Poem* 

Some  grief  shows  much  of  love  ; 
But  much  of  grief  shows  still  some  want  of  wit. 

R.  J.  ii\.  5. 

My  grief  lies  all  within, 
And  these  external  manners  and  laments 
Are  merely  shadows  to  the  unseen  grief, 
That  swells  with  silence  in  the  tortur'd  soul.       R.II.  iv.  l, 
A  plague  of  sighing  and  grief!  it  blows  a  man  up  like 
a  bladder.  H.  IV.  FT.  i.  ii.  4 

The  gods  rebuke  me,  but  it  is  n  tidings 
To  wash  the  eyes  of  kings.  A.  C.  v  1. 

I  pray  thee,  cease  thy  counsel, 
Which  falls  into  mine  ears  as  profitless 
As  water  in  a  sieve :  give  not  me  counsel, 
Nor  let  no  comforter  delight  mine  ear, 
But  such  a  one  whose  wrongs  do  suit  with  mine. 

M.  A.  v.  1. 

Dive  sorrow  words :  the  grief  that  does  not  speak, 
Whispers  the  o'er-fraught  heart,  and  makes  it  break. 

Jf.iv.3 
Like  the  lily, 

That  once  was  mistress  of  the  field,  and  flourish'd, 
I'll  hang  my  head,  and  perish.  H.  VIII.  \\\.  1 

Your  cause  of  sorrow 

Must  not  be  measured  by  its  worth,  for  then 
It  hath  no  end.  M.  v.  7, 

Is  there  no  pity  sitting  in  the  clouds, 
That  sees  into  the  bottom  of  my  grief?  R.  J.  iii.  5 

Had  he  the  motive  and  the  cue  for  passion, 
That  I  have,  he  would  drown  the  stage  with  tears, 
And  cleave  the  general  ear  with  horrid  speech ; 
Make  mad  the  guilty,  and  appal  the  free, 
Confound  the  ignorant,  and  amaze,  indeed, 
The  very  faculties  of  eyes  and  ears.  H.  ii.  2 

Thou  canst  not  speak  of  what  thou  dost  not  feel : 
Wert  thou  as  young  as  I,  Juliet  thy  love, 
An  hour  but  married,  Tybalt  murdered, 
Doating  like  me,  and  like  me  banished, 
Then  might 'st  thou  speak,  then  rnight'st  thou  tear  thy  hair 
142 


em        IjjukBSpnrinn  iirtlnitiirij. 


And  fall  upon  the  gi  3und,  as  I  do  now, 
Taking  the  measure  of  an  unmade  grave.  R.J.  iii.  3. 

Grief  softens  the  mind,  and  makes  it  fearful  and  de- 
generate. H.  VI.  PT.  ii.  iv.  4 

There  she  shook 

The  holy  water  from  her  heavenly  eyes, 
And  clamour-moisten'  d  :  then  away  she  started, 
To  deal  with  grief  alone.  K.  L.  iv.  3 

0,  insupportable  1  0,  heavy  hour  1 
Methinks  it  should  be  now  a  huge  eclipse 
Of  sun  and  moon,  and  that  the  affrighted  globe 
Should  yawn  at  alteration.  0.  v.  2 

Good,  my  lords, 

I  am  not  prone  to  weeping,  as  our  sex 
Commonly  are  ;  the  want  of  which  vain  dew, 
Perchance,  shall  dry  your  pities  ;  but  I  have 
That  honourable  grief  lodged  here,  which  burns 
Worse  than  tears  drown.  JP.2l.ii.  1 

Woe  doth  the  heavier  sit, 
Where  it  perceives  it  is  but  faintly  borne.  R.  H.  i.  3. 

My  lord  ;  —  I  found  the  prince  in  the  next  room, 

Washing  with  kindly  tears  his  gentle  cheeks  ; 

With  such  a  deep  demeanour  in  great  sorrow, 

That  tyranny,  which  never  quaff  'd  but  blood, 

Would,  by  beholding  him,  have  wash'd  his  knife 

With  gentle  eye-drops.  H.  IV.  PT.  n.  iv.  4 

One  of  the  prettiest  touches  of  all,  and  that  which  angled 
for  mine  eyes  (caught  the  water,  though  not  the  fish)  was, 
when  at  the  relation  of  the  queen's  death,  with  the  manner 
how  she  came  to  it,  (bravely  confessed  and  lamented  by 
the  king),  how  attentiveness  wounded  his  daughter:  till, 
from  one  sign  of  dolour  to  another,  she  did,  with  an  alas  ! 
I  would  fain  say,  bleed  tears  ;  for,  I  am  sure,  my  heart  wept 
blood.  Who  was  most  marble  there,  changed  colour  ;  some 
swooned,  all  sorrowed  :  if  all  the  world  could  have  seen  it, 
the  woe  had  been  universal.  W.  T.  v.  2. 

Care  is  no  cure,  but  rather  corrosive, 

For  things  that  are  not  to  be  remedied.      H.  VL  PT.  I.  iii.  S 

Why  do  you  keep  alone, 
Of  sorries:  fancies  your  companions  making? 
Using  those  thoughts,  which  should  indeed  have  died 
With  them  they  think  on  ?    Things  without  all  remedy 
Should  be  without  regard  M.  UL  2 

lit 


OKI        $jjniu0jiBariiin  iutinuanj.        aw 

SRIEF, — continued. 

These  tidings  nip  me:  and  I  hang  the  head, 

As  flowers  with  frost,  or  grass  beat  down  with  storing. 

Tit.  And.  iv.  4 
Nor  doth  the  general  care 
Take  hold  on  me ;  for  my  particular  grief 
Is  of  so  flood-gate  and  o'erbearing  nature, 
That  it  engluts  and  swallows  other  sorrows, 
And  it  is  still  itself.  O.i,  3. 

Many  a  morning  hath  he  there  been  seen, 
With  tears  augmenting  the  fresh  morning's  dew, 
Adding  to  clouds  more  clouds  with  his  deep  sighs. 

R.J.i  1. 

0,  I  could  play  the  woman  with  mine  eyes, 
And  braggart  with  my  tongue  I  M.  iv.  3, 

Now  my  soul's  palace  is  become  a  prison: 
Ah,  would  she  break  from  hence  I  that  this  my  body 
Might  in  the  ground  be  closed  up  in  rest ; 
For  never  henceforth  shall  I  joy  again.     H.  VI.  FT.  in.  ii.  1. 
How  now !  has  sorrow  made  thee  dote  already  ? 

Tit.  And.  iii.  Z 

His  grief  grew  puissant,  and  the  strings  of  life 
Began  to  crack.  K.  L.  v.  j 

But  let  not  therefore  my  good  friends  be  griev'd, 
Nor  construe  any  further  my  neglect, 
Than  that  poor  Brutus,  with  himself  at  war, 
Forgets  the  shows  of  love  to  other  men.  J.  (7.1.2. 

All  things  that  we  ordained  festival, 
Turn  from  their  office  to  black  funeral : 
Our  instruments,  to  melancholy  bells : 
Our  wedding  cheer,  to  a  sad  burial  feast ; 
Our  solemn  hymns  to  sullen  dirges  change ; 
Our  bridal  flowers  serve  for  a  buried  corse, 
And  all  things  change  them  to  the  contrary.        R.  J.  \  v .  5 

Once  a  day  I'll  visit 

The  chapel  where  they  lie :  and  tears,  shed  there, 
Shall  be  my  recreation :  so  long  as  Nature 
Will  bear  up  with  this  exercise,  so  long 
I  daily  vow  to  use  it.  W.  T.  iii.  2. 

0  break,  my  heart! — poor  bankrupt,  break  at  cnce  ! 
To  prison,  eyes  1  ne'er  look  on  liberty ! 
Vile  earth,  to  earth  resign  ;  end,  motion,  here  ; 
And  thou,  and  Romeo,  press  one  heavy  bier.       R.  J.  iii.  2, 

Sorrow,  and  grief  of  heart, 
Hade  him  apeak  fondly,  like  a  frantic  man.        R.  II.  iii.  3 

164 


OKI        |jjakts|iBariati  lirtinnnrij. 

jRIEF, — continued. 

Most  subject  is  the  fattest  soil  to  weeds ; 
And  hi,  the  noble  image  of  my  youth, 
Is  overspread  with  them :  therefore  my  grief 
Stretches  itself  beyond  the  hour  of  death. 

H.  IV.  rr.  n.  ir.  4. 

We  must  be  patient :  but  I  cannot  choose  but  weep,  to 
think  they  should  lay  him  i'  the  cold  ground.          H.  iv.  5. 
Bind  up  those  tresses :  0,  what  love  I  note 
In  the  fair  multitude  of  those  her  hairs ! 
Where  but  by  chance  a  silver  drop  hath  fallen, 
Even  to  that  drop  ten  thousand  wiry  friends 
Do  glew  themselves  in  sociable  grief; 
Like  true,  inseparable,  faithful  loves, 
Sticking  together  in  calamity.  K.  J.  iii  4. 

There's  nothing  in  this  world  can  make  me  joy : 

Life  is  as  tedious  as  a  twice-told  tale, 

Vexing  the  dull  ear  of  a  drowsy  man.  K.  J.  iii.  4. 

Every  one  can  master  a  grief,  but  he  that  has  it. 

M.A.m.2. 

What  fates  impose,  that  men  must  needs  abide ; 
It  boots  not  to  resist  both  wind  and  tide. 

H.  77.  FT.  in.  iv.  3. 

Wise  men  ne'er  sit  and  wail  their  loss, 
But  cheerly  seek  how  to  redress  their  harms. 

H.  77.  FT.  in.  v.  4. 

What  is  he  whose  grief 

Bears  such  an  emphasis  ?  whose  phrase  of  sorrow 
Conjures  the  wand'ring  stars,  and  makes  them  stand 
Like  wonder- wounded  hearers?  H.  v.  i. 

Friend,  I  owe  more  tears 
To  this  dead  man,  than  thou  shalt  see  me  pay.       J.C.  v.  3, 

Strange  it  is, 

That  nature  must  compel  us  to  lament 
Our  most  persisted  deeds.  A.C.  v.  1, 

Great  griefs,  I  see,  medicine  the  less.  Cym.  iv.  2. 

What's  gone,  and  what's  past  help, 
Should  be  past  grief.  W.T.  iii.  2. 

Spirits  of  peace,  where  are  ye  ?  Are  ye  all  gone  ? 
And  leave  me  here  in  wretchedness  behind  ye  ? 

H.  7777.  iv.  2. 

0,  that  I  were  as  great 

A*  »  my  grief  1  R.U.  iii  3. 

U* 


Dhtinunrtj.        GRI 


B  RTS  ?,—  continued. 

And  but  he's  something  stain'd 

With  grief,  thaf  s  beauty's  canker,  thou  might'  st  call  him 
A  goodly  person.  T.  5.  2 

1  have  in  equal  balance  justly  weigh'd, 

"What  wrongs  our  arms  may  do,  what  wrongs  wo  suffer, 

And  find  our  griefs  heavier  than  our  offences. 

H.IV.  PT.  n.  iv   '. 

All  of  us  have  cause 

To  wail  the  dimming  of  our  shining  star  ; 
But  none  can  cure  their  harms  by  wailing  them. 

R.  III.  ii.  2. 

Why,  courage,  then  '  what  cannot  be  avoided, 
'Twere  childish  weakness  to  lament,  or  fear. 

H.  VI.  PT.  in.  T.  %. 

••  -        MATERNAL. 

And,  father  cardinal,  I  have  heard  you  say, 

That  we  shall  see  and  know  our  friends  in  heaven 

If  that  be  true,  I  shall  see  my  boy  again  ; 

For,  since  the  birth  of  Cain,  the  first  male  child, 

To  him  that  did  but  yesterday  suspire, 

There  was  not  e^ch  a  gracious  creature  born. 

But  now  will  canker  sorrow  eat  my  bud, 

And  chase  the  native  t^auty  from  his  check  ; 

And  he  will  look  as  hollow  as  •».  ghost, 

As  dim  and  meagre  as  an  ague's  St  ; 

And  so  he'll  die  ;  and,  rising  so  again. 

When  I  shall  meet  him  in  the  court  cf  her^en 

I  shall  not  know  him  :  therefore,  never,  neve*  , 

Must  I  behold  my  pretty  Arthur  more.  K.  J.  ii'w  4 

He  talks  to  me  that  never  had  a  son.  K.  J.  iii.  4 

Grief  fills  the  room  up  of  my  absent  child, 
Lies  in  his  bed,  walks  up  and  down  with  me  ; 
Puts  on  his  pretty  looks,  repeats  his  words, 
Remembers  me  of  all  his  gracious  parts, 
Stuffs  out  his  vacant  garments  with  his  form  ; 
Then  have  I  reason  to  be  fond  of  grief. 
'  Fare  you  well  :  had  you  such  a  loss  as  I, 
I  could  give  better  comfort  than  you  do.  — 
I  will  not  keep  this  form  upon  my  head, 
When  there  is  such  disorder  in  my  wit. 
0  lord,  my  boy,  my  Arthur,  my  fair  son  ! 
My  life,  my  joy,  my  food,  my  all  the  world  ! 
My  widow-comfort,  and  my  sorrow's  cure  I  K.  J.  lii  4 


•mi        &Ijak!Sjuanaii  Sirtinnani.        GDI 

GRIEF  AND  JOY. 

The  violence  of  either  grief  or  joy, 

Their  own  enacturos  with  themselves  destroy : 

Where  joy  most  revels,  grief  doth  most  lament; 

Urief  joys,  joy  grieves,  on  slender  accident.  H.  iii.  & 

OI;OUP. 

0  thus,  quoth  Dighton,  lay  the  gentle  babes, — 
Thus,  thus,  quoth  Forrost,  girdling  one  another, 
Within  their  alabaster  innocent  arms.  R.  III.  iv.  3 

QUILT. 

So  full  of  artless  jealousy  is  guilt, 

It  spills  itself  in  fearing  to  be  spilt.  H.  iT.  4- 

Guiltiness  will  speak 

Though  tongues  were  out  of  use.  0.  T.  1 

Have  you  heard  the  argument?  Is  there  no  offence  in  itT 

//.  iii.  2 

And  then  it  started  like  a  guilty  thing 
Upon  a  fearful  summons.  H.  i.  1 

The  guilt  being  great,  the  fear  doth  still  exceed.        Poemt. 
I'll  haunt  thee  like  a  wicked  conscience  still, 
That  mouldeth  goblins  swift  as  frenzy  thoughts.     T.C.  v.  it 

Infected  minds    ' 

To  their  deaf  pillows  will  discharge  their  secrets    .  M<  v.  L 
My  words  fly  up,  my  thoughts  remain  below 
Words  without  thoughts  never  to  heaven  go.  H.  iii.  5, 

ODILTY  CAREER,  THE  CLOSE  OP  A. 

1  have  liv'd  long  enough  ;  my  way  of  life 
Is  fallen  into  the  sear,  the  yellow  leaf; 
And  that  which  should  accompany  old  age, 
As  honour,  love,  obedience,  troops  of.  friends, 
I  must  not  look  to  have ;  but,  in  their  stead, 
Curses  not  loud,  but  deep,  mouth-honour,  breath, 
Which  the  poor  heart  would  fain  deny,  but  dare  not. 

Jf.  v,  3. 

PURSUITS. 

What  win  the  guilty,  gaming  what  they  seek? 
A  dream,  a  breath,  a  froth  of  fleeting  joy ! 
For  one  sweet  grape,  who  will  the  vine  desijoy  ? 
Who  buys  a  minute's  mirth  to  wail  a  week? 
Or  sells  eternity  to  get  a  toy  ? 
I*? 


HAS       IjmkzsjimriflB  Butianori). 


*. 

HABIT  (See  also  CUSTOM). 

For  use  almost  can  change  the  stamp  of  nature 

And  either  curb  the  devil,  or  throw  him  out 

With  wondrous  potency.  H.  Hi..  4 

The  tyrant  custom,  most  grave  senators, 

Hath  made  the  flinty  and  steei  couch  of  war 

My  thrice  driven  bed  of  down.  0.  i,  3 

HABITATION. 

Fore  God,  you  have  here  a  goodly  dwelling,  and  a  rich. 

H.  IV.  FT.  n.  v.  3. 
HUMBLE. 

Stoop,  boys :  this  gate 

Instructs  you  how  to  adore  the  heavens ;  and  bows  you 
To  morning's  holy  office :  The  gates  of  monarch.* 
Are  arch'd  so  high,  that  giants  jet  through 
And  keep  their  impious  turbans  on,  without 
Good  morrow  to  the  sun.     Hail,  tliou  fair  heaven  ! 
We  house  i'the  rock,  yet  use  thee  not  so  hardly 
As  prouder  livers  do.  Cym.  iii.  3 

HALTER. 

A  halter,  gratis  ;  nothing  else,  for  God's  sake.     M.  V.  IT.  ' 

HAND. 

0,  that  her  hand, 

In  whose  comparison  all  whites  are  ink, 
Writing  their  own  reproach  ;  To  whose  soft  seizure 
The  cygnet's  down  is  harsh,  and  spirit  of  sense 
Hard  as  the  palm  of  ploughmen.  T.  C.  i.  I. 

HANGER-ON. 

0  Lord !  he  will  hang  upon  him  like  a  disease :  he  it 
sooner  caught  than  the  pestilence,  and  the  taker  runs  pre- 
sently mad.  M.  A.  1. 1. 

HANGING. 

0  the  charity  of  a  penny  cord  1  it  sums  up  thousands  in 
a  trice:  you  have  no  true  debitor  and  creditor  but  it:  of 
what's  past,  is,  and  to  come,  the  discharge  :  Your  neck,  Sir, 
?«  pen,  book,  and  counters,  so  the  acquittance  follows. 

Cym.  v.  4. 

A  heavy  reckoning  for  you,  Sir  ;  but  the  jomfort  is,  you 
pball  be  called  to  no  more  payments,  fear  no  more  tavern 
bills:  which  are  often  the  sadness  of  parting,  as  the  pro- 
curing of  mirth  :  you  come  in  faint  for  want  of  atuat 
IM 


BAN      l^nlusjuarian  iittiaaarij.       IIAT 

U  A  NGING,— continued. 

reeling  with  too  much  drink  ; —  *  *  *  purse  and  braiu  both 
empty.  Cym.  v.  4. 

Hanging  is  the  word,  Sir ;  if  you  be  ready  for  that,  you 
are  well  cook'd.  Cym.  v.  4. 

I  have  great  comfort  from  this  fellow  :  methinks  he  hath 
uo  drowning  mark  upon  him  ;  his  complexion  is  perfect 
gallows.  Stand  fast,  good  fate,  to  his  hanging !  make  the 
rope  of  hia  destiny  our  cable,  for  our  own  doth  little  advan- 
tage !  If  he  be  not  born  to  be  hangM,  our  case  is  miserable. 

T.  i.  1. 

HANGMEN. 

Some  of  the  best  of  them  were  hereditary  hangmen. 

C.  ii.  1 

HAPPINESS. 

Hitting 

Each  object  with  a  joy ;  the  counterchange 
Is  severally  in  all.  Cym.  v.  5. 

But,  0,  how  bitter  a  thing  it  is  to  look  into  happiness 
through  another  man's  eyes  !  A.  Y.  v.  2. 

COXNUBIAL. 

If  it  were  now  to  die, 
'Twere  now  to  be  most  happy ;  for,  I  fear, 
My  soul  hath  her  content  »o  absolute, 
That  not  another  comfort  like  to  this 
Succeeds  in  unknown  fate.  0.  ii.  1. 

EIARMONY  OF  THE  SPHERES. 

There's  not  the  smallest  orb  which  thou  behold'st, 

But  in  his  motion  like  an  angel  sings, 

Still  quiring  to  the  young-eyed  cherubim : 

Such  harmony  is  in  immortal  souls ; — 

But,  whilst  this  muddy  vesture  of  decay 

Doth  grossly  close  it  in,  we  cannot  hear  it.  M.  V.  v.  1. 

HATRED. 

Were  half  tc  half  the  world  by  th'  ears,  and  he 

Upon  my  party,  I'd  revolt,  to  make 

Only  my  wars  with  him  :  he  is  a  lion 

That  I  am  proud  to  hunt.  C.  i  1. 

Nor  sleep,  nor  sanctuary, 
Being  naked,  sick :  nor  fane,  nor  capitol, 
The  prayers  of  priests,  nor  times  of  sacrifice. 
Embarquements  all  of  fury,  shall  lift  up 
Their  rotten  privilege  and  custom  'gainst 
My  hate  to  Marciun  :  where  I  find  him,  were  it 
4t  home,  upon  my  brother's  guard,  even  there 
W* 


HAT       IjiakHparicn  Dutinnanj.       HER 

HATRED,— omtimted. 

Against  the  hospitable  canon,  would  I 

Wash  my  fierce  hand  in  's  heart.  C.  i.  10. 

Cancel  his  bond  of  life,  dear  God,  I  pray, 

That  I  may  live  to  say,— the  dog  is  dead !          R.  III.  iv.  4. 

How  like  a  fawning  publican  he  looks ! 

I  hate  him,  for  he  is  a  Christian : 

But  more,  for  that,  in  low  simplicity, 

He  lends  out  money  gratis,  and  brings  down 

The  rate  of  usance  here  with  us  in  Venice.  M.  F.  i.  3. 

Alas,  poor  York !  but  that  I  hate  thee  deadly, 
I  should  lament  thy  miserable  state. 
I  pr*ythee,  grieve,  to  make  me  merry,  York ; 
Stamp,  rave,  and  fret,  that  I  may  sing  and  dance. 

H.  VI.  PT.  in.  i.  4. 

I'll  not  be  made  a  soft  and  dull-ey'd  fool, 
To  shake  the  head,  relent,  and  sigh,  and  yield 
To  Christian  intercessors.  M.  V.  i;i.  3. 

If  I  can  catch  him  once  upon  the  hip, 
I  will  feed  fat  the  antient  grudge  I  bear  him.         M,  V.  i.  3 
HEART. 

A  good  leg  will  fall ;  a  strait  back  will  stoop  ;  a  black 
beard  will  turn  white  ;  a  curled  pate  will  grow  bald  ;  a  fair 
face  will  wither ;  a  full  eye  will  wax  hollow :  but  a  good 
heart,  Kate,  is  the  sun  and  moon ;  or,  rather,  the  sun,  and 
not  the  moon  ;  for  it  shines  bright,  and  never  changes,  but 
keeps  his  course  truly.  H.  V.  v.  2. 

A  light  heart  lives  long.  L.  L.  v.  2. 

BREAKING. 

But  his  flaw'd  heart, 

(Alack,  too  weak  the  conflict  to  support!) 
'Twist  two  extremes  of  passion,  joy  and  grief, 
Burst  smilingly.  K.  L.  v.  3 

HEIR-LOOM. 

Of  six  preceding  ancestors,  that  gem 

Conferr'd  by  testament  to  the  sequent  issue, 

Hath  it  been  own'd  and  worn.  A.  W,  v  .  '6 

It  is  an  honour  'longing  to  our  house, 

Bequeathed  down  from  many  ancestors. 

Which  were  the  greatest  obloquy  i'  the  world, 

In  me  to  lose.  A.  W.  iv.  2 

HERNE'S  OAK. 

There  is  an  old  tale  goes,  that  Ilerne,  the  hunter, 
Some  time  a  keeper  here  in  Windsor  forest, 
Doth  all  the  winter  time,  at  still  midnight. 


HER      IJnivfsptnrian  Birtinitimj.       ma 

HERNE'S  OAK,— continued. 

Walk  round  about  an  oak,  with  great  ragg*d  horns  ; 
And  there  he  blasts  the  tree,  and  takes  the  cattle ; 
And  makes  milch  kine  yield  blood,  and  shakes  a  chain 
In  a  most  hideous  and  dreadful  manner.  N.  W.  iv.  4. 

HERO,  MILITARY,  PRETENDED. 

Such  fellows  are  perfect  in  great  commanders'  names : 
and  they  will  learn  you  by  rote  where  services  are  done. 

ar.iii.6. 

What  a  beard  of  the  general's  cut,  and  a  horrid  suit  of 
the  camp,  will  do  among  foaming  bottles,  and  ale-washed 
wits,  is  wonderful  to  be  thought  on  I  H.  V.  iii.  6. 

HEROISM. 

Either  our  history  shall,  with  full  mouth, 

Speak  freely  of  our  acts ;  or  else  our  grave, 

Like  Turkish  mute,  shall  have  a  tongueless  mouth, 

Nor  worship'd  with  a  waxen  epitaph.  H.  V.  i.  ii 

By  his  light, 

Did  all  the  chivalry  of  England  move 
To  do  brave  acts :  he  was,  indeed,  the  glass 
Wherein  the  noble  youth  did  dress  themselves. 

H.  IV.  IT.  ii.  ii.  3 
A  true  knight ; 

Not  yet  mature,  yet  matchless  ;  firm  of  word, 
Speaking  in  deeds,  and  deedless  in  his  tongue ; 
Not  soon  provok'd,  nor,  being  provok'd,  soon  calm'd  • 
His  heart  and  hand  both  open,  and  both  free  ; 
For  what  he  has,  he  gives  ;  what  thinks,  he  shows ; 
Yet  gives  he  not  till  judgment  guide  his  bounty, 
Nor  dignifies  an  impair  thought  with  breath  : 
Manly  as  Hector,  but  more  dangerous ; 
For  Hector,  in  his  blaze  of  wrath,  subscribes 
To  tender  objects,  but  he,  in  heat  of  action, 
Is  more  vindicative  than  jealous  love.  T.C.  iv.  5, 

HESITATION  (See  also  IRRESOLUTION). 

Now,  whether  it  be 

Bestial  oblivion,  or  some  craven  scruple 
Of  thinking  too  precisely  on  the  event, — 
A  thought,  which,  quarter'd,  hath  but  one  part  wisdom, 
And,  ever,  three  parts  coward, — I  do  not  know 
While  yet  I  live  to  say,— This  thing's  to  do.  H.  iv.  4 

HIGHWAYMEN, 

Gentlemen  of  the  shade,  minions  of  the  moon. 

JJ./F.PT.I.L2. 

HI 


HIS        ft|akfj|irfiraij  DirtiDunnj,      HON 

fllSTORIAN. 

Instructed  by  the  antiquary  times, 

He  must,  he  is,  he  cannot  but  be  wise.  T.C.  ii.  3, 

HIT. 

A  hit,  a  very  palpable  hit.  H.  v.  5. 

HOLIDAY. 

To  solemnize  this  day,  the  glorious  sun 

Stays  in  his  course,  and  plays  the  alchemist ; 

Turning,  with  splendour  of  his  precious  eye, 

The  meagre  cloddy  earth  to  glittering  gold : 

The  yearly  course,  that  brings  this  day  about, 

Shall  never  see  it  but  a  holyday.  K.  J.  iii.  1. 

HOMAGE  OF  SIMPLICITY. 

For  never  any  thing  can  be  amiss, 

When  simpleness  and  duty  tender  it.  M.  N.  v.  1. 

HOME-BREEDING  (See  also  TRAVELLING). 

Out  of  your  proof  we  speak :  we,  poor  unfledgM, 

Have  never  wing'd  from  view  o'  the  nest ;  nor  know  not 

What  air's  from  home.  Cym.  iii.  3. 

UONESTY. 

Ay,  Sir ;  to  be  honest,  as  this  world  goes,  is  to  be  one 
man  picked  out  of  ten  thousand.  11.  ii.  2. 

We  need  no  grave  to  bury  honesty  ; 
There's  not  a  grain  of  it  the  face  to  sweeten 
Of  the  whole  dungy  earth.  W.  T.  ii.  1. 

Take  note,  take  note,  0  world, 
To  be  direct  and  honest  is  not  safe.  .        0.  iii.  3. 

I  am  myself  indifferent  honest :  but  yet  I  could  accuse 
me  of  such  things,  that  it  were  better  my  mother  had  not 
borne  me  :  I  am  very  proud,  revengeful,  ambitious  ;  with 
more  offences  at  my  beck,  than  I  have  thoughts  to  put  them 
in,  imagination  to  give  them  shape,  or  time  to  act  them  in  : 
What  should  such  fellows  as  I  do  crawling  between  earth 
and  heaven  ?  We  are  arrant  knaves  all ;  believe  none  of  us. 

H.  iii.  1. 
Let  me  behold 

Thy  face. — Surely  this  man  was  born  of  woman. — 
Forgive  my  general  and  exceptless  rashness, 
Perpetual  sober-gods  !     I  do  proclaim 
One  honest  man, — mistake  me  not, — but  one  j 
No  more,  I  pray, — and  he's  a  steward.  T.A,  i?.  3, 

There  is  no  terror,  Cassius,  in  your  threats 
For  I  am  armed  so  strong  in  honesty, 
That  they  pass  by  m  9,  as  the  idle  wind, 
Which  I  respect  not,  /.  C.  iy.  $ 

in 


RON      £jjnbsprnrinn  Dirtinnnrij.       HOB 

110  X  ESTY,— continued. 

This  tjrant,  -whose  sole  name  blisters  our  tongues, 

Was  once  thought  honest.  M.  iv.  3. 

Ha,  ha,  what  a  fool  Honesty  is !  and  Trust,  his  sworn 
brother,  a  very  simple  gentleman !  W.T.  iv.  3. 

Though  I  am  not  naturally  honest,  I  am  so  sometimes  by 
chance.  W.T.  iv.3. 

Every  man  has  his  fault,  and  honesty  is  his  ;  I  have  told 
him  on't,  but  I  could  never  get  him  from  it.  T.  A.  iii.  1. 
Though  honesty  be  no  puritan,  yet  it  will  do  no  hurt. 

A.W.  i.3. 
Mine  honesty  and  I  begin  to  square.  A.  G.  iii.  11 

HONOUR  (See  also  TITLES,  REPUTATION). 
The  purest  treasure  mortal  times  afford, 
ts  spotless  reputation  ;  that  away, 
Men  are  but  gilded  loam  or  painted  clay 
A  jewel  in  a  ten  times  barr'd  up  chest, 
Is  a  bold  spirit  in  a  loyal  breast. 
Mine  honour  is  my  life  ;  both  grow  in  one  ; 
Take  honour  from  me,  and  my  life  is  done.  R.  II.  i.  1. 

For  'tis  the  mind  that  makes  the  body  rich  ; 
And  as  the  sun  breaks  through  the  darkest  clouds, 
So  honour  peereth  in  the  meanest  habit. 
What,  is  the  jay  more  precious  than  the  lark, 
Because  his  feathers  are  more  beautiful  ? 
Or  is  the  adder  better  than  the  eel, 

Because  his  painted  skin  contents  the  eye  ?  T.  S.  iv.  3 

By  heaven,  methinke  it  were  an  easy  leap, 
To  pluck  bright  honour  from  the  pale-fac'd  moon: 
Or  dive  into  the  bottom  of  the  deep, 
Where  fathom-line  could  never  touch  the  ground, 
And  pluck  up  drowned  honour  by  the  locks ; 
So  he,  that  doth  redeem  her  thence,  might  wear, 
Without  corrival,  all  her  dignities : 

But  out  upon  this  half-fac'd  fellowship  I       H.  IV.  PT.  I.  i.  3 
By  Jove,  I  am  not  covetous  of  gold, 
Nor  care  I,  who  doth  feed  upon  my  cost ; 
It  yearns  me  not  if  men  my  garments  wear ; 
Such  outward  things  dwell  not  in  my  desires  ; 
But.  if  it  be  a  sin  to  covet  honour, 

1  am  the  most  offending  soul  alive.  H.  V.  iv.  3 

Life  every  man  holds  dear  ;  but  the  dear  man 
Holds  honour  far  more  precious-dear  than  life.      T.  C.  v.  3 

For  life,  I  prize  it, 
As  I  weigh  grief,  which  I  would  spare :  for  honour, 

163 


HON      $jnktip*iMl*8  Birtinttflrij. 

HONOUR,— continued. 

'Tis  a  derivative  from  me  to  mine, 

And  only  that  I  stand  for.  W.  T.  iii.  2 

The  king  has  curM  me, 

I  humbly  thank  his  grace :  and  from  these  shoulders, 
These  ruin'd  pillars,  out  of  pity,  taken 
A  load  would  sink  a  navy, — too  much  honour. 

H.  VIII.  iii,  1 

He  sits  'mongst  men,  like  a  descended  god 
lie  hath  a  kind  of  honour  sets  him  off, 
More  than  a  mortal  seeming.  Cym.  i.  7, 

Your  presence  glads  our  days  ;  honour  we  love, 
For  who  hates  honour,  hates  the  gods  above.        P.  P.  ii.  3. 

For  men,  like  butterflies, 

Show  not  their  mealy  wings  but  to  the  summer ; 
And  not  a  man,  for  being  simply  man, 
Hath  any  honour  ;  but  honour  for  those  honours 
That  are  without  him  ;  as  place,  riches,  favour, 
Prizes  of  accident  as  oft  as  merit : 
Which,  when  they  fall,  as  being  slippery  standers, 
The  love  that  lean'd  on  them  as  slippery  too, 
Do  one  pluck  down  another,  and  together 
Die  in  the  fall.  T.  C.  iii.  3. 

Thou  art  a  fellow  of  a  good  respect ; 
Thy  life  hath  had  some  amatch  of  honour  in  it.      J.  C.  v.  5. 
A  scar  nobly  got, 

Or  a  noble  sear,  is  a  good  livery  of  honour.        A.  W.  iv.  5. 
From  lowest  place  when  virtuous  things  proceed, 
The  place  is  dignified  by  the  doer's  deed : 
Where  great  additions  swell,  and  virtue  none, 
It  is  a  dropsied  honour :  good  alone 
Is  good,  without  a  name :  vileness  is  so ; 
The  property  by  what  it  is  should  go, 
Not  by  the  title.  A.  W.  ii.  3, 

For  nought  I  did  in  hate,  but  all  in  honour.  0.  v.  2. 

Let  none  presume 
To  wear  an  undeserved  dignity. 
0,  that  estates,  degrees,  and  offices, 
Were  not  deriv'd  corruptly  !  and  that  clear  honour 
Were  purchas'd  by  the  merit  of  the  wearer  ! 
How  many  then  should  cover  that  stand  bare  I 
How  many  be  commanded  that  command  1 
How  much  low  peasantry  would  then  be  glean'd 
From  the  true  seed  of  honour  !  and  how  much  honour 
Pick'd  from  the  chaff  Knd  ruin  of  the  times, 
To  be  new  varnish'd  1  M.  V.  ii  0 

1M 


HON      ijjnkrHjirarinn  Intimninj.       HON 

UONO  DR,— continued. 

By  deed-achieving  honour  newly  nam'd.  G.  ii.  1. 

If  it  be  honour,  in  your  wars,  to  seem 

The  same  you  are  not,  (which  for  your  best  ends, 

You  adopt  your  policy,)  how  is  it  less,  or  worse, 

That  it  shall  hold  companionship  in  peace 

With  honour,  as  in  war  ;  since  that  to  both 

It  stands  in  like  request  ?  C.  iii.  2. 

Who  does  i'  the  wars  more  than  his  captain  can, 

Becomes  his  captain's  captain  :  and  ambition, 

The  soldier's  virtue,  rather  makes  choice  of  loss, 

Than  gain,  which  darkens  him.  A.C. iii.  L 

Meddle  you  must,  that's  certain  ;  or  forswear  to  wear  iron 
about  you.  T.  N.  iii.  4. 

New  honours  come  upon  him 

Like  our  strange  garments  ;  cleave  not  to  their  mould, 
But  with  the  aid  of  time.  M.  i.  3. 

You  stand  upon  your  honour ! — Why,  thou  unconfinable 
baseness,  it  is  as  much  as  I  can  do  to  keep  the  terms  of 
mine  honour  precise.  I,  I,  I  myself  sometimes,  leaving  the 
fear  of  heaven  on  the  loft  hand,  and  hiding  mine  honour  in 
my  necessity,  am  fain  to  shuffle,  to  hedge,  and  to  lurch ; 
and  yet  you,  rogue,  will  ensconce  your  rags,  your  cafc-a- 
mountain  looks,  your  red-lattice  phrases,  and  your  bold- 
beating  oaths  under  the  shelter  of  your  honour?  M.  W.  ii.  2. 

I  have  heard  you  say, 
Honour  and  policy,  like  unsever'd  friends, 
P  the  war  do  grow  together :  Grant  that,  and  tell  mo, 
In  peace,  what  each  of  them  by  the  other  lose, 
That  they  combine  not  there.  O.  Ui.  2. 

You  come 
Not  to  woo  honour,  but  to  wed  it.  A.  W.  ii.  1. 

Signs  of  nobleness,  like  stars,  shall  shine 

On  all  deservers.  M.i.\. 

Give  me  life ;  which,  if  I  can  save,  so ;  if  not,  honour 
comes  unlook'd  for,  and  there's  an  end.  H.  IV.  PT.  i.  v.  3. 

Well,  'tis  no  matter ;  Honour  pricks  me  on.  Yea,  but 
how  if  honour  prick  me  off  when  I  come  on  ;  how  then  ? 
Can  honour  set  to  a  leg  ? — No.  Or  an  arm? — No.  Or  take 
away  the  grief  of  a  wound  ? — No.  Honour  hath  no  skill 
in  surgery  then  ? — No.  What  is  honour  ?— A  word.  What 
is  that  word? — Honour.  What  is  that  honour  ? — Air.  A 
trim  reckoning  1  Who  hath  it  ? — He  that  died  o'  Wednes- 
day. Doth  he  feel  it?— No.  Doth  he  hear  it ?— No.  Is  it 
insensible  then  ?— Yea,  to  the  dead.  Bnt  will  it  not  live 


RON       !Jjak?BjiBarifltt  iirttnnarif.       HOP 

II ONO  UR, — continued. 

with  the  living  ? — No.  Why  ? — Detraction  will  not  suffer 
it : — therefore  I'll  none  of  it.  Honour  is  a  mere  scutcheon, 
and  so  ends  my  catechism.  H.  IV.  PT.  i.  v.  1. 

HONOURS,  WORLDLT,  UNCERTAINTY  OF. 
The  painefull  warrior  famosed  for  worth, 

After  a  thousand  victories  once  foil'd, 
Is  from  the  booke  of  honour  razed  quite, 

And  all  the  rest  forgot  for  which  he  toiPd.  Poem,?. 

HOPE. 

The  ample  proposition  that  hope  makes 

In  all  designs  begun  on  earth  below, 

Fails  in  the  promis'd  largeness :  checks  and  disasters 

Grow  in  the  veins  of  actions,  highest  rear'd ; 

As  knots  by  the  conflux  of  meeting  sap, 

Infect  the  sound  pine  and  divert  his  grain, 

Tortive  and  errant  from  his  course  of  growth.        T.C.  i.  3, 

A  cause  on  foot 

Lives  so  in  hope,  as  in  an  early  spring 
We  see  the  appearing  buds  ;  which,  to  prove  fruit, 
Hope  gives  not  so  much  warrant,  as  despair, 
That  frosts  will  bite  them.  H.  IV.  FT.  n.  i.  ,°> 

Like  one  that  stands  upon  a  promontory, 
And  spies  a  far-off  shore  where  he  would  tread, 
Wishing  his  foot  were  equal  with  his  eye  ; 
And  chides  the  sea  that  sunders  him  from  thence, 
Saying, — he'll  lade  it  dry  to  have  his  way. 

H.  VI.  PT.  HI.  iii.  2, 

True  hope  is  swift,  and  flies  with  swallows'  wings, 
Kings  it  makes  gods,  and  meaner  creatures  kings. 

R.  III.  v.  2. 

The  miserable  have  no  other  medicine. 
But  only  hope.  M.  M.  iii.  1 

Hope  is  a  lover's  staff ;  walk  hence  with  that, 
And  manage  it  against  despairing  thoughts.        T.  G.  iii.  1. 
There  is  a  credence  in  thy  heart, 
An  esperance  so  obstinately  strong, 
That  doth  invert  the  attest  of  eyes  and  ears ; 
As  if  those  organs  had  deceptions  functions, 
Created  only  to  calumniate.  T.C.  v.  2, 

It  never  yet  did  hurt, 
To  my  down  likelihoods,  and  forms  of  hope. 

H.  IV.  PT.  H.  i.  3 

In  that  hope,  I  throw  mine  eyes  to  heaven, 
Scorning  whate'er  you  can  afflict  me  with.     H.  VI.  in.  i.  4 

166 


nor        j|]fftfc*ffifriifl  Dirtinitflri|.       HOB 

HOPE, — continued. 

I  spy  life  peering ;  but  I  dare  not  say 

How  near  the  tidings  of  our  comfort  is.  It.  II.  ii.  1 

0,  out  of  that  no  hope, 

What  great  hope  have  you  !  no  hope,  that  way,  is 
Another  way  so  high  an  hope,  that  even 
Ambition  cannot  pierce  a  wink  beyond.  T.  ii.  1 

Do  not  satisfy  your  resolution  with  hopes  that  are  fallible 

M.  M.  iu.  I 

I  have  lost  my  hopes, 

Perhaps  even  there,  where  I  did  find  my  doubts.     M.  iv.  3 

And  he  that  will  not  fight  for  such  a  hope, 

Go  home  to  bed,  and,  like  the  owl  by  day, 

If  he  arise,  be  inock'd  and  wonder' d  at.      H.  VI.  PT.  in.  v.  4 

What !  we  have  many  goodly  days  to  see  ; 

The  liquid  drops  of  tears  that  you  have  shed, 

Shall  come  again,  transforni'd  to  orient  pearl ; 

Advantaging  their  loan,  with  interest 

Of  teu-tinies-double  gain  of  happiness.  R.  III.  iv.  4. 

Hope  is  a  curtail  dog  in  some  affairs.  M.  W.  ii.  1 

I  will  despair,  and  be  at  enmity 

With  cozening  hope  ;  he  is  a  flatterer, 

A  parasite,  a  keeper-back  of  death, 

Who  gently  would  dissolve  the  bands  of  life, 

Which  false  hope  lingers  in  extremity.  R,  II.  ii.  2. 

HOPELESSNESS  (See  also  DESPONDENCY). 

Had  I  but  died  an  hour  before  this  chance, 

I  had  liv'd  a  blessed  time  ;  for,  from  this  instant, 

There's  nothing  serious  in  mortality : 

All  is  but  toys :  renown,  and  grace,  are  dead ; 

The  wine  of  life  is  drawn,  and  the  mere  lees 

Is  left  this  vault  to  brag  of.  M.  ii.  3. 

HORNS. 

Why,  horns ;  which  such  as  you  are  fain  to  be  beholden 
to  your  wives  for.  A.  Y.  iv.  1. 

Horns  !  even  so : — Poor  men  alone  ? — No,  ao  ;  the  noblest 
deer  hath  them  as  huge  as  the  rascal.  A.  Y.  iii.  3 

HORROR. 

But  that  I  am  forbid 
To  tell  the  secrets  of  my  prison-house, 
I  could  a  tale  unfold,  whose  lightest  word 
Would  harrow  up  thy  soul ;  freeze  thy  young  blood ; 
Make  thy  two  eyos,  like  stars,  start  from  their  spher^p  j 
Tby  knotted  and  combined  locks  to  part, 


Jflktijtrinsa  Uuttnnnrij. 


HORROR,—  -continued. 

And  pach  particular  hair  to  stand  on  end, 

Like  quills  upon  the  fretful  porcupine.  H.  1.  5 

HUMILITY. 

Often  to  our  comfort  shall  we  find 
The  sharded  beetle  in  a  safer  hold 

Than  is  the  full-wing'd  eagle.  Cym.  iii.  3. 

I  have  sounded  the  very  base  string  of  humility. 

H.  IV.  PT.  i.  ii.  4 
I  heard  him  swear, 

Were  he  to  stand  for  consul,  never  would  he 
Appear  i'  the  market-place,  nor  on  him  put 
The  napless  vesture  of  humility.  (7.  ii.  1 

Wilt  thou,  pupil-like, 
Take  thy  correction  mildly,  kiss  the  rod, 
And  fawn  on  rage  with  base  humility  ?  R.  II.  v.  1. 

0  happy  'vantage  of  a  kneeling  knee.  R.  II.  v.  3 

HUMOUR. 

"  The  humour  of  it,"  quoth  'a  !  here's  a  fellow  frighta 
humour  out  of  its  wits.  M.  W.  ii.  1. 

I'll  tell  thee  what,  prince  ;  a  college  of  wit-crackers  can- 
not flout  me  out  of  my  humour.  M.  A.  v.  4. 

I  am  now  of  all  humours,  that  have  showed  themselves 
humours,  since  the  old  days  of  goodman  Adam,  to  the 
pupil  age  of  this  present  twelve  o'clock  at  midnight. 

H.  IV.  PT.  i.  ii.  4. 

BUNTING. 

Say,  thou  wilt  course  ;  thy  greyhounds  are  as  swift 

As  breathed  stags,  ay,  fleeter  than  the  roe.        T.  S.  IND.  2. 

Come,  shall  we  go  and  kill  us  venison  ? 

And  yet  it  irks  me,  the  poor  dappled  fools, 

Being  native  burghers  of  this  desert  city, 

Should,  in  their  own  confines,  with  forked  heads 

Have  their  round  haunches  gor'd.  A.  Y.  ii.  \ 

My  hounds  are  bred  out  of  the  Spartan  kind, 

So  flew'd,  so  sanded  ;  and  their  heads  are  hung 

With  ears  that  sweep  away  the  morning  dew  ; 

Crook-knee'd,  and  dew-lapp'd  like  Thessalian  bulls  ; 

Slow  in  pursuit,  but  match'd  in  mouth  like  bells, 

Each  under  each.     A  cry  more  tuneable 

Was  never  holla'd  to,  nor  cheer'd  with  horn.       M.  N.  IT  I 

Uncouple  in  the  western  valley:  go: 
Despatch,  I  say,  and  find  the  forester.  — 

168 


HUN       Ijjnhspmiatt  Hirtiottflrij.       HFP 

IIFNTING,— continued. 

We  will,  fair  queen,  up  to  the  mountain's  top, 

And  mark  the  musical  confusion 

Of  hounds  and  echo  in  conjunction.  M.  N.  iv.  1. 

I  was  with  Hercules,  and  Cadmus,  once, 

When  in  a  wood  of  Crete  they  bay'd  the  bear 

With  hounds  of  Sparta :  never  did  I  hear 

Such  gallant  chiding ;  for,  besides  the  groves, 

The  skies,  the  fountains,  every  region  near 

Seem'd  all  one  mutual  cry  :  I  never  heard 

So  musical  a  discord,  such  sweet  thunder.          •  M.  N.  iv.  1 

HUSBANDMEN. 

Sun-burnt  sicklemen.  T.  iv.  1 

HYPOCRISY  (See  also  DISSIMULATION,  QUOTING  SCRIPTURE). 
Now  step  I  forth  to  whip  hypocrisy.  L.  L.  iv.  J 

A  huge  translation  of  hypocrisy.  L.  L.  v.  2. 

Ah,  that  deceit  should  steal  such  gentle  shapes, 
And  with  a  virtuous  visor  hide  deep  vice  !  R.  HI.  ii.  2. 

A  knave  very  voluble  ;  no  further  conscionable,  than  in 
putting  on  the  mere  form  of  civil  and  humane  seeming. 

0.  ii.  1. 
Knavery  cannot,  sure,  hide  itself  in  such  reverence. 

M.  A.  ii.  3. 

0  Buckingham,  beware  of  yonder  dog ; 
Look,  when  he  fawns,  he  bites ;  and,  when  he  bites, 
His  venom  tooth  will  rankle  to  the  death ; 
Have  not  to  do  with  him,  beware  of  him ; 
Sin,  death,  and  hell  have  set  their  marks  on  him ; 
And  all  their  ministers  attend  on  him.  JR.  III.  \.  3, 

Show  men  dutiful  ? 

Why,  so  didst  thou :  or  seem  they  grave  and  learned  ? 
Why,  so  didst  thou:  come  they  of  noble  family  ? 
Why,  so  didst  thou :  seem  they  religious  ? 
Why,  so  didst  thou :  or  are  they  spare  in  diet, 
Free  from  gross  passion,  or  of  mirth,  or  anger  ; 
Constant  in  spirit,  not  swerving  with  the  blood ; 
Garnish'd  and  deck'd  in  modest  compliment ; 
N;t  working  with  the  eye,  without  the  ear, 
And,  but  in  purged  judgment,  trusting  neither? 
Such,  and  so  finely  bolted,  didst  thou  seem.  H.  Y.  ii.  2. 

Seems  he  a  dove  ?  his  feathers  are  but  borrowM, 
For  he's  disposed  as  the  hateful  raven. 
Is  he  a  lamb  ?  his  skin  is  surely  lent  him, 
For  he's  inclin'd  as  are  the  ravenous  wolves. 
Who  cannot  steal  a  shape,  that  means  deceit? 

m  16 


Ijjnktsjirariiin  iirtinnarq.       HYP 


HYPOCRISY,—  continued. 

Take  heed  my  lord  ;  the  welfare  of  us  all 
Hangs  on  the  cutting  short  that  fraudful  man. 

H.VI.  pr.  ii.  iii.  I 

Tut,  I  can  counterfeit  the  deep  tragedian  ; 

Speak,  and  look  back,  and  pry  on  every  side, 

Tremble  and  start  at  wagging  of  a  straw, 

Intending  deep  suspicion  :  ghastly  looks 

Are  at  my  service,  like  enforced  smiles  ; 

And  both  are  ready  in  their  offices, 

At  any  time,  to  grace  my  stratagems.  K.  III.  iii.  5 

Be  not  you  spoke  with,  but  by  mighty  suit  : 
And  look  you  get  a  prayer-book  in  your  hand, 
And  stand  between  two  churchmen,  good  my  lord  ; 
For  on  that  ground  I'll  make  a  holy  descant  : 
And  be  not  easily  won  to  our  requests  ; 
Play  the  maid's  part,  still  answer  nay,  and  take  it. 

R.  HI.  iii.  7. 

There  is  no  vice  so  simple,  but  assumes 

Some  mark  of  virtue  on  his  outward  parts.          M.  V.  iii.  2. 

This  outward-sainted  deputy,  — 
Whose  settled  visage  and  deliberate  word 
Nips  youth  i'  the  head,  and  follies  doth  enmew, 
As  falcon  doth  the  fowl,  —  is  yet  a  devil.  M.  M.  iii.  1, 

Gloster's  show 

Beguiles  him,  as  the  mournful  crocodile 
With  sorrow  snares  relenting  passengers  ; 
Or  as  the  snake,  roll'd  in  a  flowering  bank, 
With  shining  checker'd  slough,  doth  sting  a  child, 
That,  for  the  beauty,  thinks  it  excellent. 

H.VI.  PT.  ii   iii.  1 

Smooth  runs  the  water,  where  the  brook  is  deep  ; 
And  in  his  simple  show  he  harbours  treason. 
The  fox  barks  not,  when  he  would  steal  the  lamb. 
No,  no,  my  sovereign  ;  Gloster  is  a  man 
Unsounded  yet,  and  full  of  deep  deceit. 

H.  VI.  PT.  H.  iii.  1 

So  smooth  he  daub'd  his  vice  with  show  of  virtue, 

1  hat,  —  his  apparent  open  guilt  omitted  — 

He  liv'd  from  all  attainder  of  suspect.  R.  III.  iii.  5 

Ah,  that  deceit  should  steal  such  gentle  shapes, 

And  with  a  virtuous  visor  hide  deep  vice  I          R.  III.  ii.  2. 

0,  what  authority  and  show  of  truth 

Can  cunning  sin  cover  itself  withal  !  M,  A.  ir>  1 


nip       £|ffik*ff*fim«  Sittinnanj. 


HYPOCRISY,—  continued. 

And  thus  I  clothe  my  naked  villainy 

With  old  odd  ends,  stol'n  forth  of  holy  writ  ; 

And  seem  a  saint  when  most  I  play  the  devil.     R.  HL  i.  3, 

The  secret  mischief  that  I  set  abroach, 

I  lay  unto  the  grievous  charge  of  others.  R.  HL.  \.  3 

I  do  the  wrong,  and  first  begin  to  brawl.  R.  Ill,  i.  3 

Your  great  goodness,  out  of  holy  pity, 
Absolv'd  him  with  an  axe.  H.  VIII.  iii.  2 


l&X 

JACKS  IN  OFFICE. 

The  little  dogs  and  all, 
Tray,  Blanch,  and  Sweetheart,  Bee,  they  bark  at  me. 

K.  L.  iii.  6. 

IARGOX. 

They  have  been  at  a  great  feast  of  languages,  and  stolen 
the  scraps.  L.  L.  v.  1 

IDOLATRY. 

'Tis  mad  idolatry, 

That  makes  the  service  greater  than  the  god.         T.C.  ii.  2. 
This  is  the  liver  vein,  which  makes  flesh  a  deity ; 
A  green  goose,  a  goddess  :  pure,  pure  idolatry.     L.  L.  it.  3. 

JEALOUSY. 

How  many  fond  fools  serve  mad  jealousy  1  C.  E.  ii  1. 

Trifles,  light  as  air, 

Are,  to  the  jealous,  confirmations  strong 
As  proofs  of  holy  writ.  0.  iii  ? 

Good,  my  lord,  be  cur'd 
Of  this  diseas'd  opinion,  and  betimes ; 
For  'tis  most  dangerous.  W.  T.  i.  2 

Look  where  he  comes !     Not  poppy,  nor  mandragora, 
Nor  all  the  drowsy  syrups  of  the  world, 
Shall  ever  medicine  thee  to  that  sweet  sleep 
Which  thou  ow'd'st  yesterday.  O.  iii.  S 

How  blest  am  I 

In  my  just  censure,  in  my  true  opinion ! 
Alack,  for  lesser  knowledge!     How  accurs'd, 
In  being  so  bless'd  ! — There  may  be  in  the  cup 
A  spider  steep'd,  and  one  may  drink ;  depart. 
And  yet  partake  no  venom  ;  for  his  knowledge 
It  not  infected :  but  if  one  present 

in 


JEA       ^IjnlUBjnarhn  Sittinnnrij     .   JEI 

JEALOUSY,— continued. 

The  abhorr'd  ingredient  to  his  eye,  make  known 
How  he  hath  drunk,  he  cracks  his  gorge,  his  sides, 
With  violent  hefts : — I  have  drunk,  and  seen  the  spider. 

W.T.  ii.  1 

Of  one,  that  lov'd  not  wisely,  but  too  well ; 
Of  one,  nor,  easily  jealous,  but  being  wrought, 
Perplex'd  in  the  extreme.  0.  v.  2, 

That  same  knave,  Ford,  her  husband,  hath  the  finest  matf 
devil  of  jealousy  in  him,  master  Brook,  that  ever  govern'd 
frenzy.  M.  W.  v.  1 

Poor,  and  content,  is  rich,  and  rich  enough  ; 
But  riches,  fineless,  is  as  poor  as  winter, 
To  him  that  ever  fears  he  shall  be  poor.  0.  iii.  3 

0  beware,  my  lord,  of  jealousy ; 

It  is  the  green-eyed  monster,  which  doth  mock 
The  meat  it  feeds  on  :  That  cuckold  lives  in  bliss, 
Who,  certain  of  his  fate,  loves  not  his  wronger ; 
But,  0,  what  damned  minutes  tells  he  o'er, 
Who  dotes,  yet  doubts  ;  suspects,  yet  strongly  loves  1 

O.  iii.  3 

These  are  the  forgeries  of  jealousy : 
And  never,  since  the  middle  summer's  spring, 
Met  we  on  hill,  in  dale,  forest,  or  mead, 
By  paved  fountain,  or  by  rushy  brook, 
Or  on  the  beached  margent  of  the  sea, 
To  dance  our  ringlets  to  the  whistling  wind, 
But  with  thy  brawls  thou  hast  disturb' d  our  sport. 

M.  N.  ii.  2 
Self-harming  jealousy.  C.  E.  ii.  1 

The  venom  clamours  of  a  jealous  woman 

Poison  more  deadly  than  a  mad  dog's  tooth.         C.  E.  v.  1 

The  shrug,  the  hum,  or  ha  ;  these  pretty  brands, 

That  calumny  doth  use : — 0,  I  am  out, 

That  mercy  does  ;  for  calumny  will  seer 

Virtue  itself; — these  shrugs,  these  hums,  and  has, 

When  you  have  said,  she's  goodly,  come  between, 

Ere  you  can  say  she's  honest.  W.T.  ii.  1 

The  forgeries  of  jealousy.  M.  N.  ii.  2. 

[low  novelty  may  move,  and  parts  with  person, 

Alas,  a  kind  of  godly  jealousy 

(Which,  I  beseech  you,  call  a  virtuous  sin) 

Makes  me  afeard.  T.C.  iv.  4. 

1  will  possess  him  with  yellowness.  M.W.i.Z. 

m 


JEA       Ijiahapmiaii  Dirtianart|.       JKA 


JEALOUSY,—  continued. 

Think'st  thou  I'd  make  a  life  of  jealousy, 

To  follow  still  the  changes  of  the  moon 

With  fresh  suspicions  ?    No  :  to  be  once  in  doubt, 

Is  —  once  to  be  resolved.  O.  iii.  3 

Is  whispering  nothing  ? 
IB  leaning  cheek  to  cheek  ?  is  meeting  noses  T 
Kissing  with  inside  lip  ?  stopping  the  career 
Of  laughter  with  a  sigh  ?  (a  note  infallible 
Of  breaking  honesty  i)  horsing  foot  on  foot? 
Skulking  in  corners  ?  wishing  clocks  more  swift  ? 
Hours,  minutes  ?  noon,  midnight  ?  and  all  eyes  blind 
With  the  pin  and  web,  but  theirs,  theirs  only, 
That  would  unseen  be  wicked  ?  —  is  this  nothing 
Why,  then,  the  world,  and  all  that's  in't,  is  nothing  ; 
The  covering  sky  is  nothing  ;  Bohemia  nothing  ; 
My  wife  is  nothing  ;  nor  nothing  have  these  nothings, 
If  this  be  nothing.  W.T.  i.  2, 

But  to  be  paddling  palms,  and  pinching  fingers, 
As  now  they  are  ;  and  making  practis'd  smiles, 
As  in  a  looking-glass  ;  —  and  then  to  sigh,  as  'twere 
The  mort  o'  the  deer  ;  0,  that  is  entertainment 
My  bosom  likes  not,  nor  my  brows.  W.T.  i.  2. 

What  sense  had  I  of  her  stolen  hours  of  lust  ? 
I  saw  it  not,  thought  it  not,  it  harm'd  not  me  ; 
I  slept  the  next  night  well,  was  free  and  merry  ; 
I  found  not  Cassio's  kisses  on  her  lips  : 
He  that  is  robb'd,  not  wanting  what  is  stol'n, 
Let  him  not  know  it,  and  he's  not  robb'd  at  all.        0.  iii.  3 
Avaunt  1  begone  !  thou  hast  set  me  on  the  rack  :  — 
I  swear  'tis  better  to  be  much  abus'd, 
Than  but  to  know't  a  little. 


I'll  see,  before  I  doubt ;  when  I  doubt,  prove ; 

And,  on  the  proof,  there  is  no  more  but  this,— 

Away  at  once  with  love  and  jealousy.  O.  iii.  3, 

All  my  fond  love  thus  do  I  blow  to  heaven : 

Arise,  black  vengeance,  from  thy  hollow  cell  1 

Yield  up,  0  love,  thy  crown,  and  hearted  throne, 

To  tyrannous  hate  1  swell,  bosom,  with  thy  fraught, 

For  'tis  of  aspicks'  tongues.  0.  iii.  3 

Make  me  to  see  it ;  or  (at  the  least)  so  prove  it, 

That  the  probation  bear  no  hinge,  nor  loop, 

To  hang  a  doubt  on  ;  or,  woe  upon  thy  life.  O.  iii.  3. 

If  thou  do^t  slander  her  and  torture  me, 

Never  pray  more  ;  abandon  all  remorse : 

On  horror's  head,  horrors  accumulate : 

!••<  If* 


JEA        IjjubBpBanan  Sittiaunrtj.        JES 


J  E  ^LOUSY,  —continued. 

Do  deeds  to  make  heaven  weej,   all  earth  amaz'd, 

For  nothing  canst  thou  to  damnation  add, 

Greater  than  that.  0.  iii.  1 

Villain,  be  sure  thou  prove  my  wife  a  whore  ; 

Be  sure  of  it  ;  give  me  the  ocular  proof  ; 

Or,  by  the  worth  of  mine  eternal  soul, 

Thou  hadst  been  better  have  been  born  a  dog, 

Than  answer  my  wak'd  wrath.  0.  iii.  3 

Have  you  not  seen,  Camillo, 

(But  that's  past  doubt  :  you  have  ;  or  your  eye-glass 

Is  thicker  than  a  cuckold's  horn)  ;  or  heard, 

(For,  to  a  vision  so  apparent,  rumour 

Cannot  be  mute)  ;  or  thought,  (for  cogitation 

Resides  not  in  that  man,  that  does  not  think  it) 

My  wife  is  slippery  ?     If  thou  wilt  confess, 

(Or  else  be  impudently  negative, 

To  have  nor  eyes,  nor  ears,  nor  thought),  then  say, 

My  wife's  a  hobby-horse  ;  deserves  a  name 

As  rank  as  any  flax-wench,  that  puts  to 

Before  her  troth-plight:  say  it,  and  justify  it.       W.T.  i.  2. 

My  wife  hath  sent  to  him,  the  hour  is  fixed,  the  match  is 
made.  Would  any  man  have  thought  this  ?  —  See  the  hell 
of  having  a  false  woman  !  M.  W.  ii.  2. 

Page  is  an  ass,  a  secure  ass  :  he  will  trust  his  wife.  He 
will  not  be  jealous  ;  I  will  rather  trust  a  Fleming  with  my 
butter,  parson  Hugh  the  Welshman  with  my  cheese,  an 
Irishman  with  my  aqua-vitae  bottle,  or  a  thief  to  walk  my 
ambling  gelding,  than  my  wife  with  herself.  —  Heaven  be 
praised  for  my  jealousy  1  •  M.  .  W.  ii.  2. 

By  gar,  'tis  no  de  fashion  of  France  ;  it  is  not  jealous  in 
France  M.  W.  iii.  3. 

JEST. 

0,  it  is  much,  that  a  lie,  with  a  slight  oath,  and  a  jest, 
with  a  sad  brow,  will  do  with  a  fellow  that  never  had  the 
acho  in  his  shoulders.  H.  IV.  PI.  i\.  v.  1. 

A  jest's  prosperity  lies  in  the  ear 
Of  him  that  hears  it,  never  in  the  tongue 
Of  him  that  makes  it.  L.  L.  v,  2 

I  will  bite  thee  by  the  ear  for  that  jest.  R.  J.  ii.  4 

That  very  oft, 

When  I  am  dull  with  care  and  melancholy, 
Lightens  my  humour  with  his  merry  jests.  O.  E.  i.  2 

Reply  not  to  me  with  a  fool-born  jest.       H.  IV.  PT.  ii.  v,  5 
To  4ee  now,  how  a  jest  shall  come  about  1  Ii.  J.  \.  $ 


^jjfllusprnrinn  Dtrttonnnj.        nx 


J  EST,  —  continued. 

Jesters  do  oft  prove  prophets.  K.  L.  v.  3 

Jest  a  twelvemonth  in  an  hospital.  L.  L.  v.  2> 

-  MISAPPLIED. 

His  jest  will  savour  but  of  shallow  wit, 

When  thousands  weep  more  than  did  laugh  at  it.  H.  F.  i.  2. 

He  jests  at  scars  that  never  had  a  wound.  If.  J.  ii.  2. 

JEWEL, 

Can  the  world  buy  such  a  jewel  ?  M.  A.  i.  1. 

IF. 

Talk'st  thou  to  me  of  ifs.  R.  III.  iii.  4. 

—  THE  VIRTUES  OF  AN. 

All  these  you  may  avoid  but  the  lie  direct  ;  and  you  may 
avoid  that  too,  with  an  if.  I  knew  when  seven  justices 
could  not  make  up  a  quarrel  ;  but  when  the  parties  were 
met  themselves,  one  of  them  thought  but  of  an  if;  as,  if 
you  said  so,  then  I  said  so  ;  and  they  shook  hands,  and 
swore  brothers.  Your  if  is  the  only  peace-maker  ;  much 
.  virtue  in  if.  A.Y.v.  4. 

IGNORANCE. 

0  thou  monster,  ignorance,  how  deform'd  dost  thou  look 

L.L.  iv.2. 

Ignorance  is  the  curse  of  God,  H.  VI.  FT.  H.  iv.  7. 

Dull,  unfeeling,  barren  ignorance.  R.  II.  i.  3. 

Short-arm'd  ignorance.  T.  C.  ii.  3. 

[LL-FAVOURED. 

He  is  deformed,  crooked,  old,  and  sere, 

Ill-faced,  worse-bodied,  shapeless  every  where  ; 

Vicious,  ungentle,  foolish,  blunt,  unkind, 

Stigmatical  in  making,  worse  in  mind.  C.  E.  IT.  2. 

ILLITERATE. 

Sir,  he  hath  never  fed  of  the  dainties  that  are  bred  in  a 
book  ;  he  hath  not  eat  paper,  as  it  were  ;  he  hath  not 
drunk  ink  :  his  intellect  is  not  replenished  ;  he  is  only  an 
animal  ;  only  sensible  in  the  duller  parts.  L.L  iv.  2 

ILLUSION  (See  DELUSION). 

Our  revels  now  are  ended  :  these  our  actors, 
As  I  foretold  you,  were  all  spirits,  and 
Are  melted  into  air,  into  thin  air  : 
And  like  the  baseless  fabric  of  their  vision, 
The  cloud-capp'd  towers,  the  gorgeous  palaces, 
The  solemn  temples,  the  great  globe  itself, 
Yea,  all  which  it  inherit,  shall  dissolve  ; 
H* 


ILL       IjjfllusjuimaH  iiriinnarq. 


ILLUSION,—  continued. 

And  like  this  insubstantial  pageant  faded, 

Leave  not  a  rack  behind.    We  are  such  stuff 

As  dreams  are  made  of,  and  our  little  life 

Is  rounded  with  a  sleep.  I*.  IT.  1 

IMAGINATION. 

Such  tricks  hath  strong  imagination  ; 

That  if  it  would  but  apprehend  some  Joy, 

It  comprehends  some  bringer  of  that  joy  ; 

Or,  in  the  night  imagining  some  fear, 

How  easy  is  a  bush  suppos'd  a  be'vr  1  M.  N.  v.  1 

Conceit,  more  rich  in  matter  than  in  words, 

Brags  of  his  substance,  not  of  ornament  : 

They  are  but  beggars  that  can  count  their  worth. 

R.J.ii.b 

Lovers  and  madmen  have  such  seething  brains, 

Such  shaping  fantasies,  that  apprehend 

More  than  cool  reason  ever  comprehends. 

The  lunatic,  the  lover,  and  the  poet, 

Are  of  imagination  all  compact  : 

One  sees  more  devils  than  vast  hell  can  hold  ; 

That  is,  the  madman  :  the  lover,  all  as  frantic, 

Sees  Helen's  beauty  in  a  brow  of  Egypt  : 

The  poet's  eye,  in  a  fine  frenzy  rolling, 

Doth  glance  from  heaven  to  earth,  from  earth  to  heaven  ; 

And,  as  imagination  bodies  forth 

The  forms  of  things  unknown,  the  poet's  pen 

Turns  them  to  shapes,  and  gives  to  airy  nothing 

A  local  habitation  and  a  name.  M.  N.  v.  1 

0,  who  can  hold  a  fire  in  his  hand, 

By  thinking  on  the  frosty  Caucasus  ? 

Or  cloy  the  hungry  edge  of  appetite, 

By  bare  imagination  of  a  feast  ? 

Or  wallow  naked  in  December's  snow, 

By  thinking  on  fantastic  summer's  heat 

0,  no  !  the  apprehension  of  the  good, 

Gives  but  the  greater  feeling  to  the  worse  : 

Fell  sorrow's  tooth  doth  never  rankle  more, 

Than  when  it  bites,  but  lanceth  not  the  sore.         R.  II.  i.  3 

Dangerous  conceits,  are,  in  their  natures,  poisons, 

Which,  at  the  first,  are  scarce  found  to  distaste  ; 

But,  with  a  little  act  upon  the  blood, 

Burn  like  the  minos  of  sulphur.  Q.  iii.  S 

He  waxes  desperate  with  imagination.  H.  i.  4 

178 


IMAGINARY  EVILS  CAUSE  REAL  CARES. 

The  passions  of  the  mind, 
That  have  their  first  conception  by  mis-dread, 
Have  after-nourishment  and  life  by  care  ; 
And  what  was  first  but  fear  what  might  be  done, 
Grows  elder  now,  and  cares  it  be  not  done.  P.  P.  i.  2. 

IMMACULATE. 

Chaste  and  immaculate  in  very  thought.     H.  VL  PT.  i.  v.  4. 

IMMOLATION. 

0  cruel,  irreligious  piety  1  Tit.  And.  i.  2. 

IMMORAL  READING. 

Lascivious  metres,  to  whose  venom  sound 

The  open  ear  of  youth  doth  always  listen,  R»  II.  ii.  1. 

IMPATIENCE  SUPPRESSED. 

Bondage  is  hoarse,  and  may  not  speak  aloud ; 

Else  would  I  tear  the  cave  where  Echo  lies, 

And  make  her  airy  tongue  more  hoarse  than  mine 

With  repetition  of  my  Romeo's  name.  £.  J.  ii.  2. 

IMPETUOSITY. 

The  ocean,  overpeering  of  his  list, 

Eats  not  the  flats  with  more  impetuous  haste.  H.  iv.  5. 

Let  me  go,  Sir, 
Or  I'll  knock  you  o'er  the  mazzard.  O.  ii.  8. 

IMPLACABILITY  (See  INFLEXIBILITY). 

IMPOLICY. 

Neglecting  an  attempt  of  ease  and  gain, 

To  wake,  and  wage,  a  danger  profitless.  O.  \.  3. 

IMPOSSIBILITIES. 

Then  let  the  pebbles  on  the  hungry  beach 

Fillip  the  stars  ;  then  let  the  mutinous  winds 

Strike  the  proud  cedars  'gainst  the  fiery  sun ; 

Murd'ring  impossibility,  to  make 

What  cannot  be,  slight  work.  C.  v.  3 

IMPRISONMENT. 

By  my  Christendom, 
So  I  were  out  of  prison,  and  kept  sheep, 

1  should  be  merry  as  the  day  is  long.  K.  J.  ir.  1 

IMPROVIDENCE. 

'Tis  not  unknown  to  you,  Antonio, 
How  much  I  have  disabled  mine  estate, 
By  something  showing  a  more  swelling  port 
Than  my  faint  means  would  grant  continuance.     M.  V.  i,  1 
in 


IMP        Ijfftkjsptanaii  iirtioitarq.        INC 

IMPUDENCE. 

What !  canst  thou  say  all  this,  and  never  blush  ? 

Til.  And.  v.  1 

IMPUTATION. 

To  vouch  this,  is  no  proof; 

Without  more  certain  and  more  overt  test, 

Than  these  thin  habits  and  poor  likelihoods 

Of  modern  seeming  do  prefer  against  him.  0.  i.  3, 

INCLINATION. 

To  business  that  we  love,  we  rise  betimes, 

And  go  to  it  with  delight.  A.  C.  iv.  4. 

INCONSTANCY. 

0  heaven  1  were  man 

But  constant,  he  were  perfect;  that  one  error 
Fills  him  with  faults.  T.G.  v  4. 

INCONTINENCE. 

Such  an  act, 

That  blurs  the  grace  and  blush  of  modesty : 
Calls  virtue  hypocrite  :   takes  off  the  rose 
From  the  fair  forehead  of  an  innocent  love, 
And  sets  a  blister  there :  makes  marriage  vows 
As  false  as  dicers'  oaths ;  0,  such  a  deed, 
As  from  the  body  of  contraction  plucks 
The  very  soul ;  and  sweet  religion  makes 
A  rhapsody  of  words.  H.  iii.  4 

0,  she  is  fallen 

Into  a  pit  of  ink  ?  that  the  wide  sea 
Hath  drops  too  few  to  wash  her  clean  again ; 
And  salt  too  little,  which  may  season  give 
To  her  foul  tainted  flesh.  M.  A.  iv.  1. 

Had  it  pleas'd  heaven 
To  try  me  with  affliction  ;  had  he  rain'd 
All  kinds  of  sores,  and  shames,  on  my  .bare  head ; 
Steep'd  me  in  poverty  to  t'ie  very  lips  ; 
Given  to  captivity  mo  and  my  utmost  hopes  ; 
I  should  have  found  in  some  part  of  my  soul 
A  drop  of  patience :  but  (alas!)  to  make  me 
A  fixed  figure,  fur  the  type  of  scorn 
To  point  his  low  unmoving  finger  at, 
010!  O.iv.Z 

I  should  make  very  furges  of  my  cheeks, 
That  would  to  cinders  burn  up  modesty, 
Did  I  but  speak  thy  deeds.  0.  iv.  2, 

Look  to  her,  Moor ;  have  a  quick  eye  to  see  ; 
She  has  deoeiv'd  her  father,  and  may  thee.  0.  i.  3. 

178 


INC        f  pakcspcnriaii  Sirtinnarij.        INI 

INCONTINENCE,— co»tfn«ai. 

0  thou  weed, 

Who  art  so  lovely  fair,  and  suiell'st  so  sweet, 
That  the  sense  aches  at  tKee, — would,  thou  hadst  ne'er  been 
born.  0.  lv.  2. 

0  shamt !  where  is  thy  blush  ?     Rebellious  hell, 
If  thou  canst  mutine  in  a  matron's  hones 

To- flaming  youth  let  virtue  be  as  wax, 

And  melt  iu  her  own  fire :  proclaim  no  shame, 

When  the  coi-pulsive  ardour  gives  the  charge  ; 

Since  frost  itself  as  actively  doth  burn, 

And  reason  panders  «dil.  S.  in.  4 

If  I  do  prove  her  haggard, 

Though  that  her  jesses  were  ray  dear  heart  strings, 
I'd  Avhistle  her  off,  and  let  her  down  Che  wind, 
To  prey  at  fortune.  0.  lii.  3 

INCORRIGIBLE. 

Double  and  treble  admonition,  v~:nd  still  forfeit  in  the 
same  kind.  This  would  make  mercy  swear  and  play  the 
tyrant.  M.  M.  iii.  2. 

INDEPENDENCE. 

1  cannot  tell,  what  you  and  other  men 
Think  of  this  life  ;  but,  for  my  single  self, 
I  had  as  lief  not  be,  as  live  to  be 

In  awe  of  such  a  thing  as  I  myself.  J.C.  i.  2 

INDIGNATION. 

His  indignation  derives  itself  out  of  a  very  competent 
injury.  T.  N  iii.  4. 

INFAMY. 

Wine  lov'd  I  deeply ;  dice  dearly ;  and  in  woman,  out- 
paramour'd  the  Turk.  False  of  heart,  light  of  ear,  bloody 
of  hand ;  hog  in  sloth,  fox  in  stealth,  wolf  in  greediness, 
dog  in  madness,  lion  in  prey.  K.  L.  iii.  4. 

INFANT  RULER. 

Woe  to  that  land  that's  govern'd  by  a  child  I  R,  III.  ii.  3. 

INFATUATION. 

When  we  in  our  viciousness  grow  hard, 

}0,  misery  on't !)  the  wise  gods  seel  our  eyes; 
n  our  own  filth  drop  our  clear  judgments ;  make  us 
Adore  our  errors ;  laugh  at  us,  while  we  stru* 
To  our  confusion.  A.C.  iii.  11. 

Thus  hath  the  candle  sing'd  the  moth.  M.  V.  ii.  V. 

It  was  young  Hotspur's  case  at  Shrewsbury. 
*  *  *  *  Who  lin'd  himself  with  hope, 


CNF        IIjutajiBfinan  Didiauarij,        IN? 

INFATUATION,— continued. 

Eating  the  air  on  promise  of  supply, 

Flattering  himself  with  project  of  a  power 

Much  smaller  than  the  smallest  of  his  thoughts 

And  so,  with  great  imagination, 

Proper  to  madmen,  led  his  powers  to  death, 

And,  winking,  Icap'd  into  destruction.       H.  IV.  FT.  11.  i.  3 

INFECTION. 

And  one  infect  another 
Against  the  wind  a  mile.  C.  i.  4. 

INFIRMITY. 

Infirmity  doth  still  neglect  all  office, 

Whereto  our  health  is  bound  ;  we  are  not  ourselves, 

When  nature,  being  oppress'd,  commands  the  mind 

To  suffer  with  the  body.  K.  L.  ii.  4. 

GREATNE;B  NOT  EXEMPT  FROM. 

He  had  a  fever  whim  he  was  in  Spain, 

And,  when  the  fit  was  on  him,  I  did  mark 

How  he  did  shake  :  'tis  true,  this  god  did  shake : 

His  coward  lips  did  from  their  colours  fly ; 

And  that  same  eye,  whose  bend  doth  awe  the  world, 

Did  lose  its  lustre.  /.  C.  i.  2 

INFLEXIBILITY.     (See  also  BOND). 

You  may  as  well  go  stand  upon  the  beech, 

And  bid  the  main  flood  bate  his  usual  height ; 

You  may  as  well  use  question  with  the  wolf, 

Why  he  hath  made  the  ewe  bleat  for  the  lamb ; 

You  may  as  well  forbid  the  mountain  pines 

To  wag  their  high  tops  and  to  make  no  noise, 

When  they  are  fretted  with  the  gusts  of  heaven 

You  may  as  well  do  any  thing  most  hard, 

As  seek  to  soften  that— (than  which  what's  harder?) 

His  Jewish  heart !  M.  V.  iv.  1 

Swear  his  thought  over 
By  each  particular  star  in  heaven,  and 
By  all  their  influences,  you  may  as  well 
Forbid  the  sea  for  to  obey  the  moon, 
As  or,  by  oath,  remove,  or  counsel,  shake, 
The  fabric  of  his  folly  ;  whose  foundation 
Is  pil'd  upon  his  faith,  and  will  continue 
The  standing  of  his  body.  W.T.  L  2. 

I'll  have  my  bond ;  I  will  not  hear  thee  speak : 

I'll  have  my  bond :  and  therefore  speak  no  more.  M.  V.  Sii.  3. 

There's  no  more  mercy  in  him  than  there  is  milk  in  a 
male  tiger.  (7.  v.  4. 

IM 


INF        Ijjolusjiritriflii  Dirtiniiarij.        ING 

INFLUENCE. 

So  our  leader's  led, 
And  we  are  women's  men.  A.C,  iii. 7. 

INGRATITUDE. 

Monster  ingratitude !  K.  L.  i.  6 

The  ingratitude  of  this  Seleucus  does 

Even  make  me  wild.  A.  C.  v.  2. 

Must  I  be  unfolded 

With  one  *hat  I  have  bred  ?     The  gods  ! — It  smites  me 
Beiwath  the  fall  I  have.  A.C.  v. 2. 

Blow,  blow,  thou  winter  wind, 
Thou  art  not  so  unkind 

As  man's  ingratitude ; 
Thy  tooth  is  not  so  keen, 
Because  thou  art  not  seen 

Although  thy  breath  be  rude. 
Freeze,  freeze,  thou  bitter  sky, 
That  dost  not  bite  so  nigh, 

As  benefits  forgot ; 
Though  thou  the  waters  warp, 
Thy  sting  is  not  so  sharp 

As  friend  remember'd  not.        A.  Y.  ii.  7. 
I  hate  ingratitude  more  in  a  man, 
Than  lying,  vainness,  babbling,  drunkenness, 
Or  any  taint  of  vice,  whose  strong  corruption 
Inhabits  our  frail  blood.  T.  N.  iii.  4 

I  have  kept  back  their  foes 
While  they  have  told  their  money ;  and  let  out 
Their  coin  upon  large  interest ;  I  myself, 
Rich  only  in  large  hurts, — All  those  for  this  ? 
Is  this  the  balsam,  that  the  usuring  senate 
Pours  into  captains'  wounds  ?  T.A.iii.5 

Pr'ythee  lead  me  in : 
There  take  an  inventory  of  all  I  have, 
To  the  last  penny ;  'tis  the  king's :  my  robe, 
And  my  integrity  to  heaven,  is  all 
I  dare  now  call  my  own.     0  Cromwell,  Cromwell, 
Had  I  but  sery'd  my  God  with  half  the  zeal 
I  serVd  my  king,  he  would  not  in  mine  age 
Have  left  me  naked  to  mine  enemies.  H.  VHL  iii.  8 

I  had  my  trial ; 

And,  must  needs  say,  a  noble  one ;  which  makes  me 
A  little  happier  than  my  wretched  father : 
Tci  thus  far  we  are  one  in  fortunes, — Both 
Fell  by  our  servants,  by  those  men  we  lovM  moat; 
A  most  unnatural  and  faithless  service  1 

w  V 


ING       &jjuIUBpmian  Dirtinnarq.       ma 

ING  R  ATITUDE,  —continued. 

Heaven  has  an  end  in  all ;  yet,  you  that  hear  me, 
This  from  a  dying  man  receive  as  certain : 
Where  you  are  liberal  of  your  loves,  and  counsels, 
,  Be  sure  you  be  not  loose;  for  those  you  make  friends 
;  And  give  your  hearts  to,  when  they  once  ]  erceive 
/The  least  rub  in  your  fortunes,  fall  away 
'Like  water  from  ye,  never  found  again 
'  But  where  they  mean  to  sink  ye.  H.  VIII.  ii.  1 

For  Brutus,  as  you  know,  was  Caesar's  angel ; 
Judge,  0  you  gods,  how  dearly  Csesar  lov'd  him  1 
This  was  the  most  unkindest  cut  of  all : 
For  when  the  noble  Csesar  saw  him  stab, 
Ingratitude,  more  strong  than  traitors'  arms, 
Quite  vanquish'd  him :  then  burst  his  mighty  heart ; 
And,  in  his  mantle  muffling  up  his  face, 
Even  at  the  base  of  Pompey's  statue, 
Which  all  the  while  ran  blood,  great  Caesar  fell.     J.C.  iii.  SJ 
Time  hath,  my  lord,  a  wallet  at  his  back, 
Wherein  he  puts  alms  for  oblivion, 
A  great-siz'd  monster  of  ingratitudes : 
Those  scraps  are  good  deeds  past ;  which  are  devour'd 
As  fast  as  they  are  made,  forgot  as  soon 
As  done.  T.  C.  iii.  3. 

Ingratitude  is  monstrous :  and  for  the  multitude  to  be  in- 
grateful,  were  to  make  a  monster  of  the  multitude. 

C.  ii.  3. 

I  am  rapt,  and  cannot  cover 
The  monstrous  bulk  of  this  ingratitude 
With  any  size  of  words.  •  T.  A.  v.  1. 

Being  fed  by  us,  you  us'd  us  so, 
As  that  ungentle  gull,  the  cuckoo's  bird, 
Useth  the  sparrow :  did  oppress  our  nest ; 
Grew  by  our  feeding  to  so  great  a  bulk, 
That  even  our  love  durst  not  come  near  your  sight, 
For  fear  of  swallowing.  H.  IV.  FT.  i.  v.  1, 

~~- FILIAL  (See  also  CHILDREN). 

Is  it  not  as  this  mouth  should  tear  this  hand, 

For  lifting  food  to't  ?  K.  L.  iii.  4 

Ingratitude  !  thou  marble-hearted  fiend ; 

More  hideous  when  thou  shew'st  theo  in  a  child, 

Than  the  sea  monster.  K.  L.  i.  4 

Beloved  Regan, 

Thy  sister's  naught :  0  Regan,  she  hath  tied 
Sharp-tooth'd  unkindness,  like  a  vulture  here  ; 
I  cap  scarce  speak  to  thee.  K.  L.  \\.  4 


INH        fjfiktlpfflittii  Dutionan|. 

INHUMANITY. 

I  am  sorry  for  thee  ;  thou  art  come  to  answer 

A  stony  adversary,  an  inhuman  wretch 

Uncapable  of  pity,  void  and  empty 

From  any  dram  of  mercy.  M.  V.  ir.  1 

0,  be  thou  damn'd,  inexorable  dog ! 

And  for  thy  life  let  justice  be  accurs'd. 

Thou  almost  mak'st  me  waver  in  my  faith 

To  hold  opinion  with  Pythagoras, 

That  souls  of  animals  infuse  themselves 

Into  the  trunks  of  men.  M.  V.  iv.  1 

INJURED  MAN. 

He  hath  wronged  me ;  indeed,  he  hath ; — at  a  word,  ha 

hath ; — believe  me  ; — Robert  Shallow,  esquire,  saith  he  is 

wrong'd.  M.  W.  i.  1. 

I  leave  my  duty  a  little  unthought  of,  and  speak  out  of 

my  injury.  T.  N.  v.  1. 

INN. 

What,  will  you  make  a  younker  of  me  ?  shall  I  not  take 
mine  ease  in  mine  inn,  but  I  shall  have  my  pocket  picked. 

H.  IV.  PT.  i.  iii.  3, 

INNOCENCE. 

The  trust  I  have  is  in  mine  innocence.     H.  IV.  PT.  n.  IT.  4. 
Unstained  thoughts  do  seldom  dream  of  evil.  Poems. 

Pure  innocence  hath  never  practis'd  how 
To  cloak  offences.  Poem* 

I  humbly  thank  your  highness  : 
And  am  right  glad  to  catch  this  good  occasion 
Most  thoroughly  to  be  winnow'd,  where  my  chaff 
And  corn  shall  fly  asunder ;  for,  I  know, 
There's  none  stands  under  more  calumnious  tongues 
Than  I  myself.  H.VIII.  v.  1. 

We  do  not  know 

How  he  may  soften  at  the  sight  o'  the  child  ; 
The  silence  often  of  pure  innocence 

Persuades,  when  speaking  fails.  W.T.  ii.  2 

Did  I  not  tell  you  she  was  innocent  f  M.A.v.4. 

I  have  mark'd 

A  thousand  blushing  apparitions  start 
Into  her  face ;  a  thousand  innocent  shames 
In  angel  whiteness  bear  away  those  blushes  ; 
And  in  her  eye  there  hath  appear'd  a  fire, 
To  burn  the  errors  that  these  princes  hold 
Against  her  maiden  truth.  M.  A.  iv.  I 

188 


INN       $|abspmiiB  lutinnartj.        INI 

INNOCENCE,— continued. 

If  powers  divine 

Behold  our  human  actions,  (as  they  do) 
I  doubt  not  then,  but  innocence  shall  make 
False  accusation  blush,  and  tyranny 
Tremble  at  patience.  W.T.  iii,  2 


ITSELF,  NOT  EXEMPT  FROM  MISFORTUNE. 


Some  innocents  'scape  not  the  thunderbolt.  A.C.  ii.  & 

INNOVATION. 

Thus  we  debase 

The  nature  of  our  seats,  and  make  the  rabble 
Call  our  cares,  fears ;  which  will  in  time  break  ope 
The  locks  o'  th'  senate,  and  bring  in  the  crows 
To  peck  the  eagles.  C.  iii.  1 

INSANITY. 

We  are  not  ourselves,  when  nature,  being  oppress'd, 
Commands  the  mind  to  suffer  with  the  body.        K.  L.  ii.  4 

INSECURITY. 

We  have  scotch'd  the  snake,  not  kill'd  it ; 

She'll  close,  and  be  herself;  whilst  our  poor  malice 

Remains  in  danger  of  her  former  tooth.  M.  iii.  "Z, 

I  am  cabin'd,  cribb'd,  confin'd,  bound  in 
To  saucy  doubts  and  fears.  Iff.  iii.  4 

INSINUATION. 

Thou  cried'st,  Indeed  f 

And  didst  contract  and  purse  thy  brow  together, 
As  if  thou  had'st  then  shut  up  in  thy  brain 
Some  horrible  conceit.  0.  iii.  3 

INSOLENCE. 

Ill  deeds  are  doubled  with  an  evil  word.  G.  E.  iii.  2 

INSTRUMENT  (See  also  PIPING,  TOOL). 

How  poor  an  instrument 
May  do  a  noble  deedl  A.C.  v.  2 

NTEGRITY. 

Delay'd, 
But  nothing  alter'd  :  What  I  was,  I  am.  W.T.  IT.  3 

There  is  a  kind  of  character  in  thy  life, 
That,  to  the  observer,  doth  thy  history 
Fully  unfold:  Thyself  and  thy  belongings 
Are  not  thine  own  so  proper,  as  to  waste 
Thyself  upon  thy  virtues,  them  on  thee.  .V.  M.  i.  I 

184 


INT        l^aluspmtan  Diriinuiinj.        IN? 

INTEMPERANCE. 

Boundless  intemperance 
In  nature  is  a  tyranny  ;  it  hath  been 
The  untimely  emptying  of  the  happy  throne, 
And  fall  of  many  kings.  M.  iv.  3, 

INTENTIONS,  GOOD,  DEFEATED. 

We  are  not  the  first, 

Who,  with  best  moaning,  have  incurred  the  worst 

K  L.  v.  3. 
INTENTS  AND  ACTS. 

His  act  did  not  o'ertake  his  bad  intent ; 

And  must  be  buried  but  as  an  intent, 

That  perish'd  by  the  way  :  thoughts  are  no  subjects  ; 

Intents  but  merely  thoughts.  M.  M.  T.  1. 

Between  the  acting  of  a  dreadful  thing 

And  the  first  motion,  all  the  interim  is 

Like  a  phantasma,  or  a  hideous  dream : 

The  genius,  and  the  mortal  instruments, 

Are  then  in  council :  and  the  state  of  man, 

Like  to  a  little  kingdom,  suffers  then 

The  nature  of  an  insurrection.  J.G.  ii.  1 

INTERRUPTION,  VIOLENT. 

And,  like  the  tyrannous  breathing  of  the  north, 

Shakes  all  our  buds  from  growing.  Cym.  L  4. 

INTRUDER. 

What  1  dares  the  slave 
Come  hither,  covor'd  with  an  antic  face, 
To  fleer  and  scorn  at  our  solemnity  ?  R.  J.  i.  5. 

INVASION. 

There  comes  a  power 

Into  this  scatter' d  kingdom  ;  who  already, 

Wise  in  our  negligence,  have  secret  feet 

In  some  of  our  best  ports,  and  are  at  point 
A      To  show  their  open  banner.  K.1    iii.  1. 

Shall  we,  upon  the  footing  of  our  land, 

Send  fair-play  orders,  and  make  compromise, 

Insinuation,  parley,  and  base  truce, 

To  arms  invasive  ?  shall  a  beardless  boy, 

A  cocker'd  silken  wanton  brave  our  fields, 

And  flesh  his  spirit  in  a  warlike  soil, 

Mocking  the  air  with  colours  idly  spread, 

And  find  no  check  ?  R.  L  T.  L 

BNVITATION. 

If  your  love  do  not  persuade  you  to  come,  let  not  my  letter, 

M :  V.  Hi.  2 
-**  u» 


ivv        lijak^parinn  iittionnri}. 


INVOCATION. 

Mv  father's  wit,  and  my  mother's  tongue,  assist  me  1 

L.  L.  i.  2 


LOYAL. 


God,  and  his  angels,  guard  your  sacred  throne, 

And  make  you  long  become  it !  H.  V.  i,  2. 

POET'SL 


0,  for  a  muse  of  fire,  that  would  ascend 

The  brightest  heaven  of  invention  1  H.  V.  i.  chortu. 

SOLDIER'S. 


St.  George, — that  swing'd  the  dragon,  and  e'er  since, 

Sits  on  his  horseback  at  mine  hostess'  door, 

Teach  us  some  fence  1  K.  J.  ii.  1. 

JOY. 

Take  my  cap,  Jupiter,  and  I  thank  thee  : — Hoo  !  Marciui 
is  coming  home  !  C.  ii.  1 

Why,  hark  you  ; 

The  trumpets,  sackbuts,  psalteries,and  fifes, 
Tabors,  and  cymbals,  and  the  shouting  Romans, 
Make  the  sun  dance.  O.  v.  4 

But  that  I  see  thee  here, 

Thou  noble  thing !  more  dances  my  rapt  heart 
Than  when  I  first  my  wedded  mistress  saw 
Bestride  my  threshold.  C.  iv.  6. 

There  appears  much  joy  in  him  ;  even  so  much  that  joy 
could  not  show  itself  modest  enough,  without  a  badge  of 
bitterness.  *  *  *  A  kind  overflow  of  kindness :  There  are 
no  faces  truer  than  those  that  are  so  washed.  How  much 
better  is  it  to  weep  at  joy,  than  to  joy  at  weeping ! 

M.  A.  i.  1 

IRRESOLUTION  (See  also  HESITATION). 

Our  doubts  are  traitors, 
And  make  us  lose  the  good  we  oft  might  win, 
By  fearing  to  attempt.  M.  M.  i.  5. 

That  we  would  do, 

We  should  do  when  we  would  ;  for  this  would  changes, 
And  hath  abatements  and  delays  as  many, 
As  there  are  tongues,  are  hands,  are  accidents  ; 
And  then  this  should  is  like  a  spendthrift's  sigh, 
That  hurts  by  easing.  H.  iv.  7. 

IRREVERENCE. 

Quaff*  d  off  the  muscadel,  and  threw  the  sopa  all  in  th« 
sexton's  face.  T.  S.  iii.  £ 

1M 


Ijjahspeurifln  DirtiBna:q.       JUB 

IRRITABILITY  (See  also  QUARREL). 

Come,  come,  thou  art  as  hot  a  Jack  in  thy  mood  as  any  in 

Italy.  R.J.  ill.  1. 

Being  incens'd,  he's  flint ; 
As  humorous  as  winter,  and  as  sudden 
As  flaws  congealed  in  the  spring  of  day. 
His  temper  therefore  must  be  well  observM: 
Chide  him  for  faults,  and  do  it  reverently, 
When  you  perceive  his  blood  inclin'd  to  mirth; 
But,  being  moody,  give  him  line  and  scope, 
Till  that  his  passions,  like  a  whale  on  ground, 
Confound  themselves  with  working.          H.  IV.  FT.  n.  iv.  4. 

A  very  little  thief  of  occasion  will  rob  you  of  a  great  deal 
of  pa^ence.  G.  ii.  1. 

JUDGES,  DILATORY. 

You  dismiss  the  controversy  bleeding,  the  more  entangled 
by  your  hearing.  C.  ii.  1. 

JUDGMENT,  JUSTICE. 

I  stand  for  judgment:  answer ;  shall  I  have  it?  Jf.F.  iv.  1. 
Forbear  to  judge,  for  we  are  sinners  all.   H.  VI.  FT.  n.  iii.  3. 
A  Daniel  come  to  judgment!  yea,  a  Daniel!         M.  V.  iv.  1 
To  offend  and  judge,  are  distinct  offices, 
And  of  opposed  natures.  M.  V.  ii.  9. 

0  judgment,  thou  art  fled  to  brutish  beasts. 
And  men  have  lost  their  reason.  /.  C.  iii.  2. 

The  urging  of  that  word  judgment  hath  bred  a  kind  of 
remorse  in  me.  R.  III.  i.  4. 

I  charge  you  by  the  law, 
Whereof  you  are  a  well-deserving  pillar, 
Proceed  to  judgment.  M.  V.  iv.  4 

'  Under  your  good  correction,  I  have  seen, 
When,  after  execution,  judgment  hath 
Repented  o'er  his  doom.  Jf.  M.  iL  2. 

This  shows  you  are  above, 
You  justicers,  that  these  poor  nether  crimes 
So  speedily  can  venge  !  K.  L.  iv.  2. 

0,  I  were  damn'd  beyond  all  depth  in  hell, 
But  that  I  did  proceed  upon  just  grounds 
To  this  extremity.  0.  v.  2 

All  friends  shall  taste 
The  wages  of  their  virtue,  and  all  foe? 
The  cup  of  their  deservings.  K.  L.  v.  3 

The  god«  are  just,  and  of  our  pleasant  vices 
Hake  instruments  to  scourge  u*.  ST.  L.  v  3, 


JUD        Ijjnbspfnrinii  DuttOEanj.        KEN 

J  U7K}MENT,  J  USTICE, — continued. 

Thyself  shalt  see  the  act : 
For,  as  thou  urgest  justice,  be  assur'd, 
Thou  shalt  have  justice,  more  than  thou  desir'st. 

M.  V.  iv.  L 

And  where  the  offence  is,  let  the  great  axe  fall.       H.  iv.  5 
Robes  asi  furr'd  gowns  hide  all.     Plate  sin  with  gold, 
And  the  strong  lance  of  justice  hurtless  breaks: 
Arm  it  in  rags,  a  pigmy's  straw  doth  pierce  it.    K.  L.  iv.  6 

In  the  corrupted  currents  of  this  world, 

Offence's  gilded  hand  may  shove  by  justice; 

And  oft  'tis  seen,  the  wicked  prize  itself 

Buys  out  the  law :  But  'tis  not  so  above : 

There  is  no  shuffling,  there  the  action  lies 

In  his  true  nature ;  and  we  ourselves  compelled, 

Even  to  the  teeth  and  forehead  of  our  faults, 

To  give  in  evidence.  H.  iii.  3 

I  do  believe, 

Induc'd  by  potent  circumstances,  that 
You  are  mine  enemy ;  and  make  my  challenge, 
You  shall  not  be  nry  judge.  H.  VIII.  ii.  4. 

If  I  shall  be  condemn'd 
Upon  surmises ;  all  proofs  sleeping  else, 
But  what  your  jealousies  await;  I  tell  you, 
'Tis  rigour,  and  not  law.  W.T.  iii.  2. 

Impartial  are  our  eyes,  and  ears : 
Were    he  my  brother,  nay,  my  "kingdom's  heir, 
Now  by  my  sceptre's  awe  I  make  a  vow, 
Such  neighbour  nearness  to  our  sacred  blood 
Should  nothing  privilege  him,  nor  partialize 
The  unstooping  firmness  of  my  upright  soul.         R.  II.  i.  1. 

He  shall  have  merely  justice,  and  his  bond.         M.V.  iv.  1. 

JUSTICE  OF  PEACE. 

He's  a  justice  of  peace  in  his  county,  simple  though  I 
stand  here.  M.  W.  i.  1, 


KENT. 

Kent,  in  the  commentaries  Caesar  writ, 
Is  term'd  the  civil'st  place  of  all  this  isle : 
Sweet  in  the  country,  because  full  of  riches ; 
The  people  liberal,  valiant,  active,  wealthy. 


${faktfptfinui  Dtrtiauflrq. 


KILLING. 

To  kill,  I  grant,  is  sin's  extremest  gust  ; 

But,  in  defence,  by  mercy,  it  is  just.  T.  A  iil,  5 

KINDNESS. 

When  your  head  did  but  ache, 
I  knit  my  handkerchief  about  your  brows, 
(The  best  I  had,  a  princess  wrought  it  me,) 
And  I  did  never  ask  it  you  again: 
And  with  my  hand  at  midnight  held  your  head  ; 
And,  like  the  watchful  minutes  to  the  hour, 
Still  and  anon  cheer'd  up  the  heavy  time  ; 
Saying,  —  What  lack  you  ?  —  and,—  Where  lies  your  grief? 

K.J.  iv.l 

What  would  you  have  ?  your  gentleness  shall  force, 
More  than  your  force  move  us  to  gentleness.          A.  7.  ii.  7 

Blunt  not  his  love  ; 

Nor  lose  the  good  advantage  of  his  grace, 
By  seeming  cold,  or  careless  of  his  will, 
For  he  is  gracious  if  he  be  observ'd.         H.  IV.  PT.  n.  iv.  1. 

You  may  ride  us, 

Wkh  one  soft  kiss,  a  thousand  furlongs,  ere 
With  spur  we  heat  an  acre.  W.  T.  i.  2 

KINGS  (See  also  AUTHORITY,  CROWN,  FALLEN  GREATNESS). 
He  may  not,  as  unvalu'd  persons  do, 
Carve  for  himself;  for  on  his  choice  depends 
The  safety  and  the  health  of  the  whole  state  ; 
And  therefore  must  his  choice  be  circumscrib'd 
Unto  the  voice  and  yielding  of  that  body, 
Whereof  he  is  the  head.  *      H  5.  3. 

0  hard  condition,  twin-born  with  greatness, 
Subject  to  the  breath  of  every  fool, 
Whose  sense  no  more  can  feel  but  his  own  wring!  fig  * 
What  infinite  heart's  ease  must  kings  neglect, 
That  private  men  enjoy  ! 

And  what  have  kings,  that  privates  have  not  too, 
Save  ceremony,  save  general  ceremony? 
And  what  art  thou,  thou  idol  ceremony? 
What  kind  of  god  art  thou,  that  suffer'st  more 
Of  mortal  griefs  than  do  thy  worshippers? 
What  are  thy  rents  ?  what  are  thy  comings  in  ? 
0,  ceremony,  show  me  but  thy  worth 
What,  is  thy  soul  of  adoration  ? 
Art  thou  aught  else  but  place,  degree,  and  form. 
Creating  awe  and  fear  in  other  men  ? 
Wherein  thou  art  less  happy  being  fear*d, 
Than  they  in  fearing 


KIN       ftjjiktijttftui!  iirtionartj.       KIN 

KINGS,— continued. 

What  drink'st  thou  oft  instead  of  homage  sweet, 

But  poison'd  flattery  ?     0,  be  sick,  great  greatness, 

And  bid  thy  ceremony  give  thee  cure ! 

Think'st  thou,  the  fiery  fever  will  go  out 

With  titles  blown  from  adulation  ? 

Will  it  give  place  to  flexure  and  low  bending  ? 

Canst  thou,  when  thou  command'st  the  beggar's  knee, 

Command  the  health  of  it  ?     No,  thou  proud  dream ; 

That  play'st  so  subtly  with  a  king's  repose  ; 

I  am  a  king,  that  find  thee  ;  and  I  know, 

'Tis  not  the  balm,  the  sceptre,  and  the  ball, 

The  sword,  the  mace,  and  crown  imperial, 

The  inter-tissued  robe  of  gold  and  pearl, 

The  farced  title  running  'fore  the  king, 

The  throne  he  sits  on,  nor  the  tide  of  pomp, 

That  beats  upon  the  high  shore  of  this  world : 

No,  not  all  these,  thrice  gorgeous  ceremony, 

Not  all  these,  laid  in  bed  majestical, 

Can  sleep  so  soundly  as  the  wretched  slave  ; 

Who,  with  a  body  fill'd,  and  vacant  mind, 

Gets  him  to  rest,  cramm'd  with  distressful  bread ; 

Never  sees  horrid  night,  the  child  of  hell ; 

But  like  a  lackey,  from  the  rise  to  set, 

Sweats  in  the  eye  of  Phoebus,  and  all  night 

Sleeps  in  Elysium  ;  next  day,  after  dawn, 

Doth  rise,  and  help  Hyperion  to  his  horse ; 

And  follows  so  the  ever-running  year 

With  profitable  labour,  to  his  grave : 

And,  but  for  ceremony,  such  a  wretch, 

Winding  up  his  days  with  toil,  and  nights  with  sleep, 

Had  the  fore-hand  and  vantage  of  a  king.  H.  V.  iv.  I. 

Draw  not  thy  sword  to  guard  iniquity, 

For  it  was  lent  thee  all  that  brood  to  kill.  Poems, 

Ay,  every  inch  a  king.  K.  L.  '17. 6 

Kings  are  earth's  gods :  in  vice  their  law's  their  will ; 

And  if  Jove  stray,  who  dares  say,  Jove  doth  ill  ?   P.  P.  i.  I, 

Princes  are 

A  model  which  heaven  makes  like  to  itself: 
As  jewels  lose  their  glory,  if  neglected, 
So  princes  their  renown  if  not  respected.  P.  P.  ii.  2. 

Ha,  majesty  1  how  high  thy  glory  towers, 
When  the  rich  blood  of  kings  is  set  on  fire  1 
0,  now  doth  death  line  his  dead  chaps  with  steel ; 
The  swords  of  soldiers  are  his  teeth,  his  fangs ; 
And  now  he  feasts,  mouthing  the  flesh  of  men, 
In  undetermin'd  differences  of  kings.  A'.  /  iL  2. 


KIN        lljnkfsmriau  Dirtinnartj. 


KINGS,  —  continued. 

D    but  think, 

How  sweet  a  thing  it  is  to  wear  a  crown  ; 
Within  whose  circuit  is  Elysium, 
And  all  that  poets  feign  of  bliss  and  joyl 

H.VL  PT.  iix.  i.  2. 

0  majesty  1 

When  thou  dost  pinch  thy  boarcr,  thou  dost  sit 
Like  a  rich  armour  worn  in  heat  of  day, 
That  scalds  with  safety.  H.  IV.  PT.  11.  i\  4. 

Yet  looks  he  like  a  king  ;  behold,  his  eye, 
As  bright  as  is  the  eagle's,  lightens  forth 
Controlling  majesty  :  Alack,  alack,  for  woe, 
That  any  harm  should  stain  so  fair  a  show.         R.  II.  iii.  3 
Not  all  the  water  in  the  rough,  rude  sea 
Can  wash  the  balin  from  an  anointed  king  !         R.  II.  iii.  2. 
Is  not  the  king's  name  forty  thousand  names  ?    R.  II.  iii.  2. 
There's  such  divinity  doth  hedge  a  king, 
That  treason  can  but  peep  to  what  it  would, 
Acts  Kttle  of  his  will.  H.  5v.  5 

How  long  a  time  lies  in  one  little  word, 

Four  lagging  winters,  and  four  wanton  springs, 

End  in  a  word  ;  such  is  the  breath  of  kings.          7.'.  II.  i.  3 

High  heaven  forbid, 
That  kings  should  let  their  ears  hear  their  faults  hid. 

P.  P.  i.  2 

When  we  are  wrongM,  and  would  unfold  our  griefs, 
We  are  denied  access  unto  his  person, 
Even  by  those  men  that  most  have  done  us  wrong. 

H.  IV.  PT.  ii.  iv.  1. 

The  king  is  a  good  king  ;  but  it  must  be  as  it  may  ;  he 
passes  some  humours  and  careers.  H.  V.  ii.  1. 

He  is  a  happy  king,  since  from  his  subjects 

He  gains  the  name  of  good,  by  his  government.    P.  P.  ii.  1, 

The  hearts  of  princes  kiss  obedience, 

So  much  they  love  it  ;  but,  to  stubborn  spirits, 

They  swell,  and  grow  as  terrible  as  storms.      H.  VIII.  iii.  I 

Gives  not  the  hawthorn  bush  a  sweeter  shade 

To  shepherds,  looking  on  their  silly  sheep 

Than  doth  a  rich  embroider'd  canopy, 

To  kings  that  fear  their  subjects'  treachery  ? 

0,  yes,  it  doth  ;  a  thousand  fold  it  doth. 

And,  to  conclude,  —  The  shepherd's  homely  curds, 

His  cold  thin  drink  out  of  his  leather  bottle, 


KIN       $jrftk*jymi8fi  Dutinuanj. 

KINGS,— continued. 

His  wonted  sleep  under  a  fresh  tree's  shade, 

All  which  secure  and  sweetly  he  enjoys, 

Is  far  beyond  a  prince's  delicates ; 

His  viands  sparkling  in  a  golden  cup, 

His  body  couched  in  a  curious  bed, 

When  care,  mistrust,  and  treason,  wait  on  him. 

H.  VI.  FT.  HI.  ii.  5 
Mulmutius, 

Who  was  the  first  of  Britain,  that  did  put 
His  brows  within  a  golden  crown,  and  called 
Himself  a  king.  Gym.  iii.  1 

Who  has  a  book  of  all  that  monarchs  do, 
He's  more  secure  to  keep  it  shut  than  shown.        P.  P.  i.  1 
Peace,  peace,  my  lords,  and  give  experience  tongue. 
They  do  abuse  the  king  that  flatter  him  : 
For  flattery  is  the  bellows  blows  up  sin  ; 
The  thing  the  which  is  flatter'd,  but  a  spark, 
To  which  that  breath  gives  heat  and  stronger  glowing ; 
Whereas  reproof,  obedient,  and  in  order, 
Fits  kings,  as  they  are  men,  for  they  may  err.       P.  P.  i.  2 

The  mightier  man,  the  mightier  is  the  thing 

That  makes  him  honour'd,  or  begets  him  hate.          Poems 

A  thousand  flatteries  sit  within  thy  crown, 

Whose  compass  is  no  bigger  than  thy  head ; 

And  yet,  incaged  in  so  small  a  verge, 

The  waste  is  no  whit  lesser  than  thy  land.  R.  II.  ii.  1 

What? 

I  will  be  jovial ;  come,  come  ;  I  am  a  king, 
My  masters,  know  you  that  ?  K.  L.  iv.  6 

Landlord  of  England  art  thou  now,  not  king : 
Thy  state  of  law  is  bond-slave  to  the  law.  R.  II.  ii .  1 

The  king  is  not  himself,  but  basely  led  by  flatterers. 

R.  II.  ii  1 

The  skipping  king  he  ambled  up  and  down, 
With  shallow  jesters  and  rash  bavin  wits. 

H.lV.vt.i.\\\  2 

Princes  have  but  their  titles  for  their  glories, 

An  outward  honour  for  an  inward  toil ; 

And,  for  unfelt  imaginations, 

They  often  feel  a  world  of  restless  cares  : 

So  that,  between  their  titles,  and  low  name, 

There's  nothing  differs  but  the  outward  fame.      R.  III.  i.  4 

For  within  the  hollow  crown, 
That  rounds  the  mortal  temples  of  a  king, 


KIN        llfflbspnrinn  iirtinmirq.        KIN 

KINGS,— continued. 

Keeps  death  his  court :  and  there  the  antic  sits, 

Scoffing  his  state,  and  grinning  at  his  pomp ; 

Allowing  him  a  breath,  a  little  scene. 

To  monarchise,  be  fear'd,  and  kill  with  looks ; 

Infusing  him  with  self  and  vain  conceit, — 

As  if  this  flesh,  that  walls  about  our  life, 

Were  brass  impregnable  ;  and  huinour'd  thus, 

Comes  at  the  last,  and  with  a  little  pin 

Bores  through  his  castle  wall,  and — farewell,  king. 

R.IL  iii.  2 

Cover  your  heads,  and  mock  not  flesh  and  blood 
With  solemn  reverence  ;  throw  away  respect, 
Tradition,  form,  and  ceremonious  duty, 
For  you  have  but  mistook  me  all  this  while : 
I  live  on  bread  like  you,  feel  want  like  you, 
Taste  grief,  need  friends,  like  you  :  subjected  thus, 
How  can  you  say  to  me — I  am  a  king  !  R.  II.  iii.  2, 

0  Cromwell,  Cromwell, 
Had  I  but  serv'd  my  God,  with  half  the  zeal 
I  serv'd  the  king,  he  would  not  in  mine  age 
Have  left  me  naked  to  mine  enemies.  H.  VIII.  iii.  2. 

I  think  the  king  is  but  a  man,  as  I  am :  the  violet  smells 
to  him  as  it  doth  to  me ;  the  element  shows  to  him  as  it 
doth  to  me  ;  all  his  senses  have  but  human  conditions :  hie 
ceremonies  laid  by,  in  his  nakedness  he  appears  but  a  man ; 
and  though  his  affections  are  higher  mounted  than  ours,  yet, 
when  they  stoop,  they  stoop  with  the  like  "wing ;  therefore, 
w.hen  he  sees  reason  of  fears,  as  we  do,  his  fears,  out  of 
doubt,  be  of  the  same  relish  as  ours  are.  H.  V.  iv.  I 

Well,  I  perceive  he  was  a  wise  fellow,  and  had  good  dis- 
cretion, that  being  bid  to  ask  what  he  would  of  the  king, 
desired  he  might  know  none  of  his  secrets.  Now  do  I  see 
he  had  some  reason  for  it :  for  if  a  king  bid  a  man  be  a 
villain,  he  is  bound  by  the  indenture  of  his  oath  to  be  ono. 

P.  P.  i.  3 

But  not  a  minute,  king,  that  them  can'st  give  : 
Shorten  my  days,  thou  can'st,  with  sullen  sorrow, 
And  pluck  nights  from  me,  but  not  lend  a  morrow : 
Thou  canst  help  time  to  furrow  me  with  age, 
But  stop  no  wrinkle  in  his  pilgrimage  ; 
Thy  word  is  current  with  him  for  my  death  , 
But,  djad,  thy  kingdom  cannot  buy  my  breath.     R.  IL  i.  3 

<  HENRY  V. 

I  saw  young  Harry  with  his  beaver  on, 
His  cuisses  on  his  thighs,  gallantly  arm'd,— 

m  ;T 


KIN       Itjabspmrifln  Dirtinnnrij.       KIN 

KING  HENRY  V., — continued. 

Rise  from  the  ground,  like  feather'd  Mercury, 

And  vaulted  with  such  ease  into  his  seat, 

As  if  an  angel  dropp'd  down  from  the  clouds, 

To  turn  and  wind  a  fiery  Pegasus, 

And  witch  the  world  with  noble  horsemanship. 

H.  IV.  PT.  i.  »?.  1 

England  ne'er  had  a  king  until  his  time. 
Virtue  he  had,  deserving  to  command  ; 
His  brandish'd  sword  did  blind  men  with  his  be&ma ; 
His  arms  spread  wider  than  a  dragon's  wings ; 
His  sparkling  eyes,  replete  with  wrathful  fire, 
More  dazzled  and  drove  back  his  enemies, 
Than  mid-day  sun,  fierce  bent  against  their  faces. 
What  should  I  say  ?  his  deeds  exceed  all  speech : 
He  ne'er  lift  up  his  hand,  but  conquered.     H,  VI.  PT.  i.  1, 1 
Hear  him  but  reason  in  divinity, 
And,  all-admiring,  with  an  inward  wish 
You  would  desire  the  king  were  made  a  prelate: 
Hear  him  debate  of  commonwealth  affairs, 
You  would  say — it  hath  been  all-in-all  his  study ; 
List  his  discourse  of  war,  and  you  shall  hear 
A  fearful  battle  render'd  you  in  music : 
Turn  him  to  any  cause  of  policy, 
The  Gordian  knot  of  it  he  will  unloose, 
Familiar  as  his  garter ;  that,  when  he  speaks, 
The  air,  a  charter'd  libertine,  is  still, 
And  the  mute  wonder  lurketh  in  men's  ears, 
To  steal  his  sweet  and  honey'd  sentences.  H.  V.  i  i, 

HENRY  VI. 

But  all  his  mind  is  bent  to  holiness, 

To  number  Ave-Maries  on  his  beads; 

His  champions  are — the  prophets  and  apostles ; 

His  weapons,  holy  saws  of  sacred  writ ; 

His  study  is  his  tilt-yard,  and  his  love? 

Are  brazen  images  of  canoniz'd  saints.      H.  VI.  PT.  n.     S. 

RICHARB  III. 

Tetchy  and  wayward  was  thy  infancy ; 
Thy  school-days  frightful,  desperate,  wild,  and  furious ; 
Thy  prime  of  manhood  daring,  bold,  and  venturous ; 
Thy  age  confirm'd,  proud,  subtle,  sly,  and  bloody. 

R.  UI.  IT.  4 

• 's  ABSENCE  ANI  RETURN,  TYPIFIED. 

Know'st  thou  not, 

That  when  the  searching  eye  of  heaven  is  hid 
Behind  the  globe,  and  lights  the  lower  world, 
Then  thieves  and  robbers  range  abroad  unseen, 
W 


KIN        Ijjnlu0pt(inaii  Dirtinnnrq.        KIS 

KING'S  ABSENCE  AND  RETCRN,  TYPIFIED, — continued. 
In  murders  and  in  outrage,  bloody  here  ; 
But  when,  from  under  this  terrestrial  ball, 
He  fires  the  proud  tops  of  the  eastern  pines, 
And  darts  his  light  through  every  guilty  hole, 
Then  murders,  treasons,  and  detested  sins, 
The  cloak  of  night  being  pluck'd  from  off  their  backs, 
Stand  bare  and  naked,  trembling  at  themselves  ?    RJI.  iii.  2 


-'s  ADVISER. 


That  man,  that  sits  within  a  monarch's  heart, 
And  ripens  in  the  sunshine  of  his  favour, 
Would  he  abuse  the  countenance  of  the  king, 
Alack,  what  mischiefs  might  he  set  abroach, 
In  shadow  of  such  greatness  1  H.  IV.  PT.  u.  iv.  2 

—  DEATH  OF  A. 

The  cease  of  majesty 


Dies  not  alone  ;  but,  like  a  gulf,  doth  draw 

What's  near  it  with  it :  it  is  a  massy  wheel, 

Fix'd  on  the  summit  of  the  highest  mount, 

To  whose  huge  spokes  ten  thousand  lesser  things 

Are  mortis'd  and  adjoin'd  ;  which,  when  it  falls, 

Each  small  annexment,  petty  consequence, 

Attends  the  boisterous  ruin.  H.  iii.  \ 

's  EVIL. 

'Tis  call'd  the  evil : 

A  most  miraculous  work  in  this  good  king : 
Which  often,  since  my  here-remain  in  England, 
I  have  seen  him  do.     How  he  solicits  heaven, 
Himself  best  knows :  but  strangely  visited  people, 
All  swoln  and  ulcerous,  pitiful  to  the  eye, 
The  mere  despair  of  surgery,  he  cures ; 
Hanging  a  golden  stamp  about  their  necks, 
Put  on  with  holy  prayers ;  and  'tis  spoken, 
To  the  succeeding  royalty  he  leaves 

The  healing  benediction.  M.  iv.  3. 

Ay,  Sir ;  there  are  a  crow  of  wretched  souls, 
That  stay  his  cure  ;  their  malady  convinces 
The  great  assay  of  art ;  but,  at  his  tcuch, 
Such  sanctity  hath  heaven  given  his  land, 
They  presently  amend.  M.  iv.  & 

KJSS. 

0,  a  kiss 

Long  as  my  exile,  sweet  as  my  revenge  I 
Now,  by  the  jealous  queen  of  heaven,  that  kiss 
I  carried  from  thee,  dear  ;  and  my  true  lip 
Hath  virgin'd  it  e'er  since.  (7.  T.  3. 

Ml 


KIS        J>jjjib0jjrnrinn  iirtinnnrij.       KIU 

K.  1 SS, — continued* 

Very  good;  well  kiiaed  !  an  excellent  courtesy.         ?.  ii,  1. 

This  done,  he  took  the  bride  about  the  neck  ; 

Aiid  kiss'd  her  lips  with  such  a  clamorous  smack, 

That,  at  the  parting,  all  the  church  did  echo.       T.  S.  Hi.  2, 

Teach  not  thy  lip  such  scorn  ;  for  it  was  made 

For  kissing,  lady,  not  for  such  contempt.  B.  III.  i   2. 

KISSES,  COLD. 

He  hath  bought  a  pair  of  cast  lips  of  Diana ;  a  nun  c-f 
winter's  sisterhood  kisses  not  more  religiously  ;  the  very 
ice  of  chastity  is  in  them.  A.Y.  iii.  4. 

And  his  kissing  is  as  full  of  sanctity  as  the  touch  of  holy 
bread.  A.  Y.  iii.  4. 

EXPRESSIVE. 

I  understand  thy  kisses,  and  thou  mine, 

And  that's  a  feeling  disputation.  H.  IV.  PT.  i.  iii.  1 

KNAVES. 

A  knave ;  a  rascal,  an'  eater  of  broken  meats ;  a  base, 
proud,  shallow,  beggarly,  three-suited,  hundred-pound,  filthy 
worsted-stocking  knave ;  a  lily-liver'd,  action-taking  knave  ; 
a  whoreson,  glass-gazing,  superserviceable,  finical  rogue  ;  a 
one-trunk-inheriting  slave :  One  whom  I  will  beat  into  clam- 
orous whining,  if  thou  denyest  the  least  syllable  of  thy 
additions.  K.  L.  ii.  2. 

A  shrewd  knave,  and  an  unhappy.  A.  W.  iv.  5. 

A  slippery  and  subtle  knave  ;  a  finder  out  of  occasions  ; 
that  has  an  eye  can  stamp  and  counterfeit  advantages, 
though  true  advantage  never  present  itself:  a  devilish 
knave  1  0.  ii.  1. 

What  a  pestilent  knave  is  this  same  1  R.  J.  iv.  5. 

I  grant  your  worship,  that  he  is  a  knave,  Sir;  but  yet, 
God  forbid,  Sir,  but  a  knave  should  have  some  countenance 
at  his  friend's  request.  An  honest  man,  Sir,  is  able  to 
speak  for  himself,  when  a  knave  is  not.  I  have  served  your 
worship  truly,  Sir,  for  this  eight  years  ;  and  if  I  cannot 
once  or  twice  in  a  quarter  bear  out  a  knave  against  an 
honest  man,  I  have  but  very  little  credit  with  your  worship. 
The  knave  is  mine  honest  friend,  Sir ;  therefore,  I  beseech 
your  worship,  let  him  be  countenanced.  H  IV.  PT.  ii.  v.  1. 

A  beetle-headed,  flat-ear'd  knave.  T.S.  iv.  1 

Use  his  men  well,  for  they  are  arrant  knaves,  and  will 
backbite.  H.IV.  PT.  n.  v.  1 

That  sucb  a  slave  as  this  should  wear  a  sword, 

196 


KNA      #{jak*Bjuniinn  iirtiDBflrtj       KNC 

KNAVES,— continued. 

Who  wears  no  honesty.     Such  smiling  rogues  at  these 
Like  rata,  oft  bite  the  holy  cords  atwain, 
Which  are  too  intrinse  t'  unloose.  K.  L.  ii.  2 

By  holy  Mary,  Butts,  there's  knavery.  H.  VIII.  v.  2 

KNIGHTHOOD. 

Sweet  knight,  thou  art  now  one  of  the  greatest  men  in 
the  realm.  H.  IV:  PT.  n.  v.  3. 

Well,  now  can  I  make  any  Joan  a  lady : 

Good-den,  Sir  Richard, — God-a-mercy,  fettov)  ; — 

And  if  his-name  be  George,  I'll  call  him  Peter ; 

For  new-made  honour  doth  forget  men's  names ; 

'Tis  too  respective,  and  too  sociable, 

For  your  conversion.  K.  J.  i.  1. 

He  is  a  knight,  dubbed  with  unbacked  rapier,  and  on 
carpet  consideration.  T.  N.  iii.  4. 

There  lay  he  stretch'd  along,  like  a  wounded  knight. 

A.T.  iii.  2, 

KNIGHTS  OP  THE  GARTER. 

When  first  this  order  was  ordain'd,  my  lords, 

Knights  of  the  garter  were  of  noble  birth  ; 

Valiant,  and  virtuous,  full  of  haughty  courage , 

Such  as  were  grown  to  credit  by  the  wars : 

Not  fearing  death,  nor  shrinking  for  distress, 

But  always  resolute  in  most  extremes. 

He  then  that  is  not  furnish'd  in  this  sort, 

Doth  but  usurp  the  sacred  name  of  knight. 

Profaning  this  most  honourable  order.       H.  VI.  PT.  i.  iv.  1. 

KNOCKING. 

Here's  a  knocking,  indeed  1  If  a  man  were  porter  ol 
hell-gate,  he  should  have  old  turning  the  key.  Who'i 
there,  i'  the  name  of  Belzebub  ?  M.  ii.  3. 

KNOTS  IN  TIMBER. 

As  knots,  by  the  conflux  of  meeting  sap, 

Infeot  the  sound  pine,  and  divert  his  grain, 

Tortive  and  errant  from  his  course  of  growth.         T.C.  i.  3. 

KNOWING  MAX. 

This  fellow's  of  exceeding  honesty, 

And  knows  all  qualities  with  a  learned  spirit 

Of  human  dealings.  O.  iii.  3. 

Is  this  the  man  ?     Is't  you,  Sir,  that  know  things  ? 

A.C  i.  2. 

KNOWLEDGE. 

Too  much  to  know,  is  to  know  nought  but  fame.  L.  L.  i.  1. 

197  17* 


LAB       Ijjubsjimuii  iirtiouarq. 


LABODB  IN  VAIN. 

Numbering  sands  and  drinking  oceans  dry.        R.  II.  ii.  2 
You  may  as  well  go  about  to  turn  the  sun  to  ice,  by  fan- 
ning in  his  face  with  a  peacock's  feather.  H.  V.  iv.  1. 

I  have  seen  a  swan 

With  bootless  labour  swim  against  the  tide, 
And  spend  her  strength  with  over-matching  waves. 

H.VL  PT.  m.  i.  4 

LABYRINTH. 

Here's  a  maze  trod,  indeed, 
Through  fortn-rights,  and  meanders  I  T,  Hi.  3. 

LAMENTATIONS  (See  also  SORROW,  TEARS). 

Why  should  calamity  be  full  of  words  ?  R.  III.  iv.  4 

Windy  attorneys  to  their  client  woes, 
Airy  succeeders  to  intestate  joys, 
Poor  breathing  orators  of  miseries  I 
Let  them  have  scope :  though  what  they  do  impart, 
Help  nothing  else,  yet  do  they  ease  the  heart.    R.IIL  iv.  4. 

Alas,  poor  Yorick  1  H.  v.  1. 

Wise  men  ne'er  sit  and  wail  their  loss, 
But  cheerly  seek  how  to  redress  their  harms. 

H.  VI.  PT.  in.  v.  4. 

Cry,  Trojans,  cry  1  lend  me  ten  thousand  eyes, 
And  I  will  fill  them  with  prophetic  tears. 
Virgins  and  boys,  mid-age  and  wrinkled  elders, 
Soft  infancy,  that  nothing  canst  but  cry, 
Add  to  my  clamours  1  let  us  pay  betimes 
A  moiety  of  that  mass  of  moan  to  come.  T.C.  ii.  2. 

LAND  OWNER. 

He  hath  much  land,  and  fertile: — 'Tis  a  chough;  but,  as 
I  say,  spacious  in  the  possession  of  dirt.  H.  v.  2. 

LANGUAGE,  ENGAGING. 

He  speaks  holiday.  M.  W.  iii.  2 

LARK. 

The  lark,  whose  notes  do  beat 
Tho  vaulty  heaven  so  high  above  our  heads.        It.  J.  iii.  5. 

LATE  HOURS. 

Have  you  no  wit,  manners,  nor  honesty,  but  to  gabble 
like  tinkers  at  this  time  of  night  ?  T.  N.  ii.  3. 

What  doth  gravity  out  of  his  bed  at  midnight ! 

H.  IV.  PT.  i.  ii.  i 

198 


LAT       #|ftk*fftJtriii  iirtinmmj. 

LATIN. 

Away  with  him,  away  with  him !     He  speaks  Latin 

H.VJ.  FT.  ii.  ,v.  2. 
0,  good  my  lord,  no  Latin ; 
1  am  not  such  a  truant  since  my  coming, 
As  not  to  know  the  language  I  have  liv'd  in.   H.  VIII  iii.  1. 

You  do  ill  to  teach  the  child  such  words :  he  teaches  him 
to  hick,  and  to  hack,  which  they'll  do  fast  enough  of  them- 
selves ;  and  to  call  horurn  ; — fye  upon  you  1  M.  W,  iv.  1. 

0,  I  smell  false  Latin.  L.  L.  v.  1. 

LAUGHTER. 

With  his  eyes  in  flood  with  laughter.  Cym.  i.  7. 

0,  you  shall  see  him  laugh,  till  his  face  be  like  a  wet 

cloak,  ill  laid  up.                                         H.  IV.  PT.  n.  v.  1. 

With  such  a  zealous  laughter,  so  profound.  L.  L.  v.  2. 

Stopping  the  career  of  laughter  with  a  sigh.  W.T.  i.  2. 
Making  that  idiot,  laughter,  keep  men's  eyes, 
And  strain  their  cheeks  to  idle  merriment, 

A  passion  hateful  to  my  purposes.  K.  J.  iii.  3 

0,  I  am  stabb'd  with  laughter.  L.  L.  v.  2 

More  merry  tears 

The  passion  of  loud  laughter  never  shed.  M.  N.  v.  1 

LAW  (See  also  LITIGATION). 

We  have  strict  statutes  and  most  biting  laws.        M.  M.  i.  4 

When  law  can  do  no  right, 

Let  it  be  lawful,  that  law  bar  no  wrong.  K.  J.  iii.  1. 

In  law,  what  plea  so  tainted  and  corrupt, 
But,  being  season'd  with  a  gracious  voice, 
Obscures  the  show  of  evil  ?  M.  V.  iii.  2. 

Help,  master,  help ;  here's  a  fish  hangs  in  the  net,  like 
a  poor  man's  right  in  the  law ;  'twill  hardly  come  out. 

P.  P.  ii.  1. 

The  brain  may  devise  laws  for  the  blood ;  but  a  hot  tern* 
per  leaps  over  a  cold  decree :  such  a  hare  is  madness  the 
youth,  to  skip  o'er  the  meshes  of  good  counsel  the  cripplo 

M.V.  i.  2, 

We  must  not  make  a  scarecrow  of  the  law, 
Setting  it  up  to  fear  the  birds  of  prey, 
And  let  it  keep  one  shape  till  custom  make  it 
Their  perch,  and  not  their  terror.  M.  At.  ii.  I 

There  is  no  power  in  Venice 
Can  alter  a  decree  established  : 
'Twill  be  recorded  for  a  precedent ; 
1M 


LAW       IjfakJBpiflriaii  iidintianj.       LEA 

LAW,— continued. 

And  many  an  error,  by  the  same  example, 

Will  rush  into  the  state :  it  cannot  be.  M.  V.  iv.  1. 

We  are  for  law,  he  dies.  T.  A.  iii.  5, 

It  pleases  time  and  fortune  to  lie  heavy 

Upon  a  friend  of  mine,  who,  in  hot  blood, 

Hath  etepp'd  into  the  law,  which  is  past  depth 

To  those  that,  without  heed,  plunge  into  it.         T.  A.  iii.  5. 

Now,  as  fond  fathers, 

Having  bound  up  the  threatening  twigs  of  birch, 
Only  to  stick  it  in  their  children's  sight, 
For  terror,  not  to  use  ;  in  time  the  rod 
Becomes  more  mock'd  than  fear'd :  so  our  decrees, 
Dead  to  infliction,  to  themselves  are  dead ; 
And  liberty  plucks  justice  by  the  nose.  M.  M.  i  4 

What's  open  made  to  justice, 
That  justice  seizes.     What  know  the  laws, 
That  thieves  do  pass  on  thieves  ?    'Tis  very  pregnant, 
The  jewel  that  we  find  we  stoop  and  take  it, 
Because  we  see  it ;  but  what  we  do  not  see, 
We  tread  upon,  and  never  think  of  it.  M.  M.  il.  1 

The  bloody  book  of  law 
You  shall  yourself  read  in  the  bitter  letter, 
After  your  own  sense.  0.  i.  3 

If  by  this  crime  he  owes  the  law  his  life, 
Why,  let  the  war  receiv't  in  valiant  gore ; 
For  law  is  strict,  and  war  is  nothing  more.          T.  A.  iii.  5. 
Faith,  I  have  been  a  truant  in  the  law ; 
And  never  yet  could  frame  my  will  to  it ; 
And,  therefore,  frame  the  law  unto  my  will. 

H.  VI.  FT.  i.  ii.  4 

But,  I  pr'ythee,  sweet  wag,  shall  there  be  gallows  stand- 
ing in  England  when  thou  art  king  ?— and  resolution  thus 
fobb'd  as  it  is,  with  the  rusty  curb  of  old  father  antic,  the 
law?  H.  IV.  PT.  i.  i. 2. 

ABUSE  OF. 

The  usurer  hangs  the  cozener.  K.  L.  iv.  6. 

LAWYERS. 

The  first  thing  we  do,  letfs  kill  all  the  lawyers. 

H.VI.  n.  H.  ir. 2. 

Do  as  adversaries  in  law,  strive  mightily, 
But  eat  and  drink  as  friends.  T.  S.  i.  2. 

LEADER. 

Another  of  his  fashion  they  have  not ; 
To  lead  their  business .  0.  i.  1. 

200 


LEA       £}ak*f]ii*ti*9  fHrtiniianf.       LEI 

LEAN  VISAGE. 

Would  he  were  fatter : — But  I  fear  him  not : — 

Yet  if  my  name  were  liable  to  fear, 

I  do  not  know  the  man  I  should  avoid 

So  soon  as  that  spare  Cassius.     He  re^ads  much ; 

He  is  a  great  observer,  and  he  looks 

Quite  through  the  deeds  of  men  ;  he  loves  no  plays, 

As  thou  dost,  Antony ;  he  hears  no  music : 

Seldom  he  smiles  ;  and  smiles  in  such  a  sort, 

As  if  he  mock'd  himself,  and  scorn'd  his  spirit 

That  could  be  mov'd  to  smile  at  an/  thing. 

Such  men  as  he  be  never  at  heart's  ease, 

Whiles  they  behold  a  greater  than  themselves  ; 

And  therefore  are  they  very  dangerous.  J.C.  i.  2 

LlOAHNING  (See  also  LIGHT,  KING  HENRV  V.,  STUDY). 

0  this  learning !  what  a  thing  it  is !  T.  S,  i.  2. 

Learning  is  but  an  adjunct  to  ourself.  L.  L.  iv.  3 

A  mere  hoard  of  gold,  kept  by  a  devil ;  till  sack  com 
mences  it,  and  sets  it  in  use.  H.  IV.  PT.  u.  iv.  3 

LEEK,  THE 

Will  you  mock  at  an  antient  tradition,  begun  upon  an 
honourable  respect,  and  worn  as  a  memorable  trophy  of 
predeceased  valour, — and  dare  not  avouch  in  your  deeds 
any  of  your  words  ?  H.  V.  v.  1 

LEERING. 

I  spy  entertainment  in  her ;  she  discourses,  she  carvea 
she  gives  the  leer  of  invitation.  -  M.  W.  i.  3 

LEGITIMACY. 

Sirrah,  your  brother  is  legitimate : 

Your  father's  wife  did  after  wedlock  bear  him : 

And  if  she  did  play  false,  the  fault  was  her*? ; 

Which  fault  lies  on  the  hazards  of  all  husbands 

That  marry  wives.  K.  J.  i.  1. 

LENITY. 

For  what  doth  cherish  weeds  but  gentle  air  ? 

And  what  makes  robbers  bold,  but  too  much  lenity  ? 

H.  VI.  PT.  in.  ii.  6. 

My  gracious  liege,  this  too  much  lenity 

And  harmful  pity,  must  be  laid  aside.      H.VI.  PT.  m.'ii.  2. 

LETTER. 

An'  it  shall  please  you  to  break  up  this,  it  shall  seem  to 
signify.  M.V. 


LET        lijnbsprnrian  Dirhminnj.        LLA 

LETTER,  —continued. 

Why,  what  read  you  there, 
That  bath  so  cowardecl  and  chas'd  your  blood, 
Out  of  appearance  ?  H.  V.  ii.  2. 

Let  us  see : — 
Leave,  gentle  wax  ;  and  manners,  blame  us  not.     K.L.  iv.  6. 

Read  o'er  this ; 

And  after,  this ;  and  then  to  breakfast,  with 
What  appetite  you  have.  H.  VIII.  iii.  2 

Here  are  a  few  of  the  unpleasant'st  words 
That  ever  blotted  paper.  M.  V.  iii.  2. 

Why,  thou  picture  of  what  thou  seemest,  and  idol  of 
idiot- worshippers,  here's  a  letter  for  thee.  T.  C.  v  I. 

LIAR.     LIES.     LYING. 

One  that  lies  three-thirds,  and  uses  a  known  truth  to  pass 
a  thousand  nothings  with,  should  be  once  heard,  and  thrice 
beaten.  A  W.  ii.  5. 

You  told  a  lie  ;  an  odious,  damned  lie ; 
Upon  my  soul,  a  lie  ;  a  wicked  lie.  O.  v.  2. 

He  will  lie,  Sir,  with  such  volubility,  that  you  would 
think  truth  were  a  fool.  A.  W.  i\  3. 

Two  beggars  told  me, 

I  could  not  miss  my  way :  Will  poor  folks  lie, 
That  have  afflictions  on  them ;  knowing  'tis 
A  punishment,  or  trial  ?     Yes  ;  no  wonder, 
When  rich  ones  scarce  tell  true :  To  lapse  in  fulness 
Is  sorer  than  to  lie  for  need ;  and  falsehood 
Is  worse  in  kings  than  beggars.  Cym.  iii.  6. 

Let  me  have  no  lying ;  it  becomes  none  but  tradesmen. 

W.  T.  iv.  3. 

Detested  kite  1  thou  liest.  K.  L.  i.  4. 

These  lies  are  like  the  father  that  begets  them  ;  gross  aa 

a  mountain,  open,  palpable.  H.  IV.  FT.  i.  ii.  4. 

This  same  starved  justice  hath  done  nothing  but  prate  to 

;         me  of  the  wildness  of  his  youth,  and  the  feats  ho  hath  done 

about  Turnbull-street ;    and  every  third  word  a  lie,  duor 

paid  to  the  hearer  than  the  Turk's  tribute. 

H.IV.  PT.  ii.  iii.  2. 
Thou  liest,  thou  jesting  monkey,  thou.  T.  iii.  2. 

Whose  tongue  soe'er  speaks  false, 

Not  truly  speaks ;  who  speaks  not  truly,  lies.       K.  J.  iv.  3. 
A  very  honest  woman,  but  something  given  to  lie ;  aa 
§  woman  should  not  do,  but  in  the  way  of  honesty. 

^.CT.2. 
20? 


LIA        gjjfl{u0pimiin  iirttnnnrt}.        LIF 

LIAR, — continued. 

Lord,  Lord,  how  subject  we  old  men  are  to  this  vice  of 
lying !  H.  IV.  PT.  n.  iii.  4. 


DITPK. 

Like  one, 

Who  having,  unto  truth,  by  telling  of  it, 
Made  such  a  sinner  of  his  memory, 
To  credit  his  own  lie.  T.  i.  2. 

LIBERTY. 

Blessed  be  those, 

How  mean  soe'er,  that  have  their  honest  wills, 
Which  seasons  comfort.  Cym,  i.  7 

LICENTIOUSNESS. 

As  surfeit  is  the  father  of  much  fast, 

So  every  scope,  by  the  immoderate  use, 

Turns  to  restraint.  M.  M.  L  3. 

LIFE  (See  also  ILLUSION,  MAN,  DEATH). 

Thy  life's  a  miracle.  K.  L.  iv.  6. 

Life's  but  a  walking  shadow,  a  poor  player, 

That  struts  and  frets  his  hour  upon  the  stage, 

And  then  is  heard  no  more ;  it  is  a  tale 

Told  by  an  idiot,  full  of  sound  and  fury, 

Signifying  nothing.  M.  T.  5. 

0  gentlemen,  the  time  of  life  is  short ; 

To  spend  that  shortness  basely,  were  too  long, 

If  life  did  ride  upon  a  dial's  point, 

Still  ending  at  th'  arrival  of  an  hour.         H.  IV.  PT.  i.  v.  2 

1  see,  a  man's  life  is  a  tedious  one.  Cym.  iii.  6. 
Like  madness  is  the  glory  of  this  life.  T.  A.  i.  2. 

Reason  thus  with  life: — 
If  I  do  lose  thee,  I  do  lose  a  thing, 
That  none  but  fools  would  keep.  M.  M.  iii.  1. 

The  web  of  our  life  is  of  a  mingled  yarn,  good  and  ill 
together :  our  virtues  would  be  proud,  if  our  faults  whipp'd 
them  not ;  and  our  crimes  would  despaii ,  if  they  were  not 
cherished  by  our  virtues.  A.  W.  iv.  3. 

The  sands  are  numbered  that  make  up  my  life. 

AFZn.in.L4, 

Life  is  a  shuttle.  M.  W.  v.  1. 

Thus  play  I,  vn  one  person,  many  people, 
And  none  contented.  R.  II.  5. 

0  excellent !  I  love  long  life  better  than  figs !         A.  C.  i.  2. 

aw 


MF       IjjnlUBpmiaB  iirtiouariL       LIO 

LIFE,  —  continued. 

Think,  ye  see 

The  very  persons  of  our  noble  story, 
As  they  were  living  ;  think,  you  see  them  great, 
And  follow'd  with  the  general  throng,  and  sweat, 
Of  thousand  friends  ,  then,  in  a  moment,  see 
How  soon  this  mightiness  meets  misery!  H.  VIII,  pi  ologue. 
It  is  silliness  to  live,  when  to  live  is  a  torment:  and  then 
we  have  a  prescription  to  die,  when  death  is  our  physician, 

0.1.3. 

That  life  is  better  life,  past  fearing  death, 
Than  that  which  lives  to  fear.  M.  M.  v.  1. 

Thus,  sometimes,  hath  the  brightest  day  a  cloud  ; 
And,  after  summer,  evermore  succeeds 
Barren  winter,  with  his  wrathful  nipping  cold  : 
So  cares  and  joys  abound,  as  seasons  fleet. 

H.  VI.  PT.  H.  ii.  4. 

-  EPITOMIZED  (See  WORLD). 

-  DESIRE  OF. 

Camilla.  —  I  very  well  agree  with  you  in  the  hopes  of 
him  :  it  is  a  gallant  child  ;  one  that,  indeed,  physics  the 
subject,  makes  old  hearts  fresh  :  they,  that  went  on 
crutches  ere  he  was  born,  desire  yet  their  life,  to  see 
him  a  man. 

Archidamus.  —  Would  they  else  be  content  to  die  ? 

Camilla.  —  Yes  ;  if  there  were  no  other  excuse  why  they 
should  desire  to  live. 

Archidamus.  —  If  the  king  had  no  son,  they  would 
desire  to  live  on  crutches  till  he  had  one.  W.  T.  i.  1. 

LIGHT  (See  also  STUDY). 

Light,  seeking  light,  doth  light  of  light  beguile  : 

So,  ere  you  find  where  light  in  darkness  lies, 

Your  light  grows  dark  by  losing  of  your  eyes.        L.  L.  i.  1. 

LIGHT  INFANTRY. 

And  this  same  half-fac'd  fellow,  Shadow,  —  give  me  this 
man  ;  he  presents  no  mark  to  the  enemy  ;  the  foeman  may 
with  as  great  aim  level  at  the  edge  of  a  pen-knife  :  And,  fur 
a  retreat,—  how  swiftly  will  this  Feeble,  the  woman's  tailur, 
run  off  1  0,  give  me  the  spare  men,  and  spare  me  the  great 
ones.  H.  IV.  rr.  n.  iii.  2 


LIGHTNING  (See  al^ 

Like  the  lightning,  which  doth  cease  to  be, 
Ere  one  can  say,  —  It  lightens  !  JR.  J.  ii.  2 

Brief  as  the  lightning  in  the  collied  night, 
That,  in  a  spleen,  unfolds  both  heaven  and  earth  ; 

20J, 


LIG        Ijjakfspfnrifln  Dirtinnarij.       LON 

LIGHTNING,— continued. 

And  ere  a  man  can  say, — Behold! 

The  jaws  of  darkness  do  devour  it  up.  M.  N.  i.  1 

To  stand  against  the  deep  dread-bolted  thunder, 

In  the  most  terrible  and  nimble  stroke 

Of  quick,  cross  lightning.  K.  L.  iv.  7. 

LIXEAGE  (See  also  ANCESTRY). 

A  plague  of  both  your  houses  !  It.  J.  iii.  1. 

There's  neither  honesty,  manhood,  nor  good  fellowship 
in  thee,  nor  thou  earnest  not  of  the  blood-royal,  if  thou  dar'st 
not  stand  for  ten  shillings.  H.  IV.  PT.  i.  i.  2. 

LION. 

'Tis 

The  royal  disposition  of  that  beast, 

To  prey  on  nothing  that  doth  seem  as  dead.         A.  Y.  iv.  3. 

So  looks  the  pent-up  lion  o'er  the  wretch, 
That  trembles  under  his  devouring  paws : 
And  so  he  walks,  insulting  o'er  his  prey ; 
And  so  he  comes  to  rend  his  limbs  asunder. 

H.VI.  PT.in.i.3 


LITIGATION  (See  also  LAW). 
I'll  have  an  action  of  bal 
law  in  Illyria.  T.  N.  iv 


I'll  have  an  action  of  battery  against  him,  if  there  be  any 

"  .1. 


Persuade  me  not,  I  will  make  a  star  chamber  matter  of  it 

M.  W.  i.  1 

I'll  answer  him  by  law:  I'll  not  budge  an  inch. 

T.  S.  IND.  1. 

LIVELIHOOD. 

You  take  my  life, 
When  you  do  take  the  means  whereby  I  live.        M.  F.  IT.  1. 

LONELINESS. 

Alack,  the  night  comes  on,  and  the  bleak  winds 

Do  sorely  ruffle  ;  for  many  miles  about 

There's  scarce  a  bush.  K.  L.  ii.  4. 

— INSUPPORTABLE. 

But  whate'er  I  am, 
Nor  I,  nor  any  man,  that  but  man  is, 
With  nothing  shall  be  pleae'd,  till  he  be  eas'd 
With  being  nothing.  R.  U.  ?.  5 

LONGEVITY. 

A  light  heart  lives  long. 

m  W 


LON        i^iktipiariii  inttnnur^ 

IX  NG  (STORIES). 

Men,  pleas'd  themselves,  think  others  will  delight 

In  such  like  circumstance,  with  such  like  sport, 

Their  copious  stories,  oftentimes  begun, 

End  without  audience,  and  are  never  done.  Poems 

LORD. 

Thou  art  a  lord,  and  nothing  but  a  lord.  T.  8.  IND.  2 

Upon  my  life  I  am  a  lord,  indeed  ; 

And  not  a  tinker,  nor  Christophero  Sly.  T.  S.  END.  2. 

LORD'S  ANOINTED. 

A  flourish,  trumpets  ! — strike  alarum,  drums  ! 
Let  not  the  heavens  hear  these  tell-tale  women 
Rail  on  the  Lord's  anointed.  It.  III.  iv.  4, 

LOYE  (See  also  COURTSHIP,  FIDELITY). 

Let  me  not  to  the  marriage  of  true  minds 

Admit  impediments.     Love  is  not  love, 
Which  alters  when  it  alteration  finds, 

Or  bends  with  the  remover  to  remove. 
0  no,  it  is  an  ever-fixed  mark, 

That  looks  on  tempests,  and  is  never  shaken 
It  is  the  star  to  every  wand'ring  bark, 

Whose  worth's  unknown,  although  his  height  be  taken. 
Love's  not  Time's  fool,  though  rosy  lips  and  cheeks 

Within  his  bending  sickle's  compass  come ; 
Love  alters  not  with  his  brief  hours  and  weeks, 

But  bears  it  out  even  to  the  edge  of  doom.  Poems, 

To  be  wise,  and  love,  exceeds  man's  might.          T.  G.  iii.  2. 
Good  shepherd,  tell  this  youth  what  'tis  to  love. 
It  is  to  be  all  made  of  sighs  and  tears, 
It  is  to  be  all  made  of  faith  and  service, 
It  is  to  be  all  made  of  fantasy. 
All  made  of  passion,  and  all  made  of  wishes  ; 
All  adoration,  duty,  and  observance, 
All  humbleness,  all  patience,  and  impatience, 
All  purity,  all  trial,  all  observance.  A.T.  v.2. 

As  love  is  full  of  unbefitting  strains  ; 
All  wanton  as  a  child,  skipping,  and  vain ; 
Form'd  by  the  eye,  and,  therefore,  like  the  eye, 
Full  of  strange  shapes,  of  habits,  and  of  forms, 
Varying  in  subjects  as  the  eye  doth  roll 
To  every  varied  object  in  his  glance.  L. L,  7.2 

But  love,  first  learned  in  a  lady's  eyes, 
Liyea  not  alone  immured  in  the  brain  : 
But  with  the  motion  of  all  elements, 
Courses  as  swift  as  thought  in  every  power  ; 
KM 


LOT       $£fllu0piiriaii  SHrtinuimj. 

LO  V  E, — continued, 

And  gives  to  every  power  a  double  power, 

A.bove  their  functions  and  their  offices. 

It  adds  a  precious  seeing  to  the  eye ; 

A  lover's  eyes  will  gaze  an  eagle  blind ; 

A  lover's  ear  will  hear  the  lowest  sound, 

When  the  suspicious  head  of  theft  is  stopp'd ; 

Love's  feeling  is  more  soft,  and  sensible, 

Than  are  the  tender  horns  of  cockled  snails  ; 

Love's  tongue  proves  dainty  Bacchus  gross  in  taste : 

For  valour,  is  not  love  a  Hercules, 

Still  climbing  trees  in  the  Hesperides  ? 

subtle  as  Sphynx,  t.s  uwoet  and  musical 

As  bright  Apollo's  lute,  siruig  with  his  hair ; 

A.nd,  when  love  speaks,,  vhe  voice  of  all  the  gods 

.Vlakes  heaven  drowsy  with  the  .harmony. 

Never  durst  poet  touch  a  pen  to  write, 

Until  his  ink  were  temper'd  witn  love's  sighs; 

O  then  his  lines  would  ravish  savage  ears, 

And  plant  in  tyrants  mild  huuiility.  L.  L.  IT.  3 

Love  is  a  smoke  rais'd  with  the  fume  of  sighs  ; 

Being  purg'd,  a  fire  sparkling  in  a  lover's  eyes ; 

.Being  vex'd,  a  sea  nourish'd  with  lovera'  tears : 

What  is  it  else  ?  a  madness  most  discreet, 

A  cLoking  gall,  and  a  preserving  sverft.  R.  J.  i.  1. 

Love  like  a  shadow  flies,  when  substance  love  pursues ; 
Pursuing  that  that  flies,  and  flying  what  pursues. 

M.  W.  ii.  2. 

Didst  thou  but  know  the  inly  touch  of  love, 
Thou  would'st  as  soon  go  kindle  fire  with  snow, 
As  seek  to  quench  the  fire  of  love  with  words.      T.O.  n.  7. 

Things  base  and  vile,  holding  no  quantity, 

Love  can  transpose  to  form  and  dignity. 

Love  looks  not  with  the  eyes,  but  with  the  mind : 

And  therefore  is  wing*d  Cupid  painted  blind ; 

Nor  hath  love's  mind  of  any  judgment  taste ; 

Wings,  and  no  eyes,  figure  unheedy  haste ; 

And  therefore  is  love  said  to  be  a  child, 

Because  in  choice  he  is  so  oft  beguil'd.  M.  N.  i.  1. 

Love  is  a  familiar :  love  is  a  devil :  there  is  no  evil  angel 
but  love.  Yet  Sampson  was  so  tempted ;  and  he  had  an 
excellent  strength :  yet  was  Solomon  so  seduced ;  and  he 
had  a  very  good  wit.  L.  I,.\  2 

Adieu,  valour !  rust,  rapier !  be  still,  drum.!  for  youi 
manager  is  in  love  ;  yea,  he  loveth.  L.L.i.2. 

iff! 


Lor        Ijjaiusjnnnatt  fKrtinnnnj. 

LOVE,  —  continued. 

0  king,  believe  not  this  hard-hearted  man  ; 

Love,  loving  not  itself,  none  other  can.  R.  II.  v.  3 

O  spirit  of  love,  how  quick  and  fresh  art  thou  !       T.  N,  i.  1 

Come  hither,  boy  :  If  ever  thou  shalt  love, 
In  the  sweet  pangs  of  it,  remember  me  ; 
For,  such  as  I  am,  all  true  lovers  are  ; 
Unstaid  and  skittish  in  all  motions  else, 
Save  in  the  constant  image  of  the  creature 
That  is  belov'd.  T.N.'ii.l. 

It  is  as  easy  to  count  atomies,  as  to  resolve  the  proposi- 
tions of  a  lover.  A.Y.  iii.  2 

The  strongest,  love  will  instantly  make  weak  : 
Strike  the  wise  dumb  ;  and  teach  the  fool  to  speak.    Poem* 
Excellent  wretch  !  Perdition  catch  my  soul, 
But  I  do  love  thee  !  and  when  I  love  thee  not, 
Chaos  is  come  aain. 


I  know  I  love  in  vain,  strive  against  hope  ; 

Yet  in  this  captious  and  intenible  sieve, 

I  still  pour  in  the  waters  of  my  love, 

And  lack  not  to  lose  still  :  thus,  Indian-like, 

Religious  in  mine  error,  I  adore 

The  sun,  that  looks  upon  his  worshipper, 

But  knows  of  him  no  more.  A.  W.  i.  3. 

We,  that  are  true  lovers,  run  into  strange  capers  ;  but  as 
all  is  mortal  in  nature,  so  is  all  nature  in  love  mortal  in 
folly.  A.Y.u.4. 

Love  is  merely  a  madness  ;  and,  I  tell  you,  deserves  as 
well  a  dark  house  and  a  whip,  as  madmen  do:  and  the 
reason  why  they  are  not  eo  punished  and  cured,  is,  that 
the  lunacy  is  so  ordinary,  that  the  whippers  are  in  love  too. 

A.Y.iii.2. 

0  coz,  coz,  coz,  my  pretty  little  coz,  that  thou  didst  know 
how  many  fathom  deep  I  am  in  love  1  But  it  cannot  be 
sounded  ;  my  affection  hath  an  unknown  bottom,  like  the 
bay  of  Portugal.  A.Y.  iv.  1. 

Break  an  hour's  promise  in  love  I  A.  Y.  iv.  1. 

By  heaven,  I  do  love  ;  and  it  hath  taught  me  to  rhyme,  and 
to  be  melancholy.  L.  L.  iv.  3. 

If  he  be  not  in  love  with  some  woman,  there  is  no  be- 
lieving old  signs  :  he  brushes  his  hat  o'  mornings  ;  —  what 
should  that  bode  ?  M.  A.  iii.  3. 

Tho  greatest  note  of  it  is  his  molauoholy.  M.  A.  iii.  2, 
808 


LOV        ^jfufoipmifln  Dirtinunrq. 


LOVE,  —  cmtinued. 

I  found  him  under  a  tree,  like  a  dropped  acorn. 

J.F.iii.2. 

But  love  is  blind,  and  lovers  cannot  see 
The  pretty  follies  that  themselves  commit  ; 
For,  if  they  could,  Cupid  himself  would  blush.     M.  V.  ii,  6. 
This  is  the  very  ecstacy  of  love  : 
Whose  violent  property  foredoes  itself, 
And  leads  the  will  to  desperate  undertakings, 
As  oft  as  any  passion  under  heaven, 

That  does  afflict  our  natures.  H.  ii.  1. 

Cressid,  I  love  thee  in  so  strain'd  a  purity, 
That  the  bless'd  gods  —  as  angry  with  my  fancy, 
More  bright  in  zeal  than  the  devotion  which 
Cold  lips  blow  to  their  deities.  T.  C.  iv.  4. 

I  do  much  wonder  that  one  man,  seeing  how  much 
another  man  is  a  fool  when  he  dedicates  his  behaviour  to 
love,  will,  after  he  hath  laughed  at  such  shallow  follies  in 
others,  become  the  argument  of  his  own  scorn,  by  falling 
in  love.  M.  A.  ii.  3 

The  more  thou  damm'st  it  up,  the  more  it  burns  ; 

The  current,  that  with  gentle  murmur  glides, 

Thou  know'st,  being  stopp'd,  impatiently  doth  rage 

But  when  his  fair  course  is  not  hindered, 

He  makes  sweet  music  with  th'  enamePd  stones, 

Giving  a  gentle  kiss  to  every  sedge 

He  overtaketh  in  his  pilgrimage  ; 

And  so,  by  many  winding  nooks,  he  strays, 

With  willing  sport,  to  the  wild  ocean.  T.  G.  ii.  7. 

0,  pardon  me,  my  lord  ;  it  oft  falls  out. 

To  have  what  we'd  have,  we  speak  not  what  we  mean  : 

I  something  do  excuse  the  thing  I  hate, 

For  his  advantage  that  I  dearly  love.  M.  M.  ii.  4. 

If  I  do  not  take  pity  of  her,  I'm  a  villain  ;  if  I  do  not 
love  her,  I  am  a  Jew:  I  will  go  get  her  picture. 

N.  J.ii.  3. 

Not  only,  Mistress  Ford,  in  the  simple  office  of  love,  but 
in  all  accoutrement,  complement,  and  ceremony  of  it. 

M.  W.  iv  2 

Tell  her,  my  love,  more  noble  than  the  world, 
Prizes  not  quantity  of  dirty  lands  ; 
The  parts  that  fortune  hath  bestow'd  upon  her, 
Tell  her,  I  hold  as  giddily  as  fortune  ;  ' 
But  'tis  that  miracle,  and  queen  of  gems, 
That  nature  pranks  her  in,  attracts  my  soul.         T.  N.  ii.  4 
209  18« 


LOT        Itjabsjunrifln  Duiintuinj. 

LOVE, — continued. 

As  the  most  forward  bud 
Is  eaten  by  the- canker  ere  it  blow, 
Ev'n  so  by  love  the  young  and  tender  wit 
Is  turn'd  to  folly ;  blasting  in  the  bud, 
Losing  his  verdure  even  in  the  prime, 
And  all  the  fair  effects  of  future  hopes.  T.Q.LI 

0,  how  this  spring  of  love  resembleth 
The  uncertain  glory  of  an  April  day  ; 

Which  now  shows  all  the  beauty  of  the  sun, 

And  by-and-by  a  cloud  takes  all  away.  T.G.  i.  8 

As  in  the  sweetest  bud 
The  eating  canker  dwells,  so  eating  love 
Inhabits  in  the  finest  wits  of  all.  -  T.O.  i.  1. 

Your  brother  and  my  sister  no  sooner  met,  but  they 
looked  ;  no  sooner  looked,  but  they  loved  ;  no  sooner  loved, 
but  they  sighed ;  no  sooner  sighed,  but  they  asked  one 
another  the  reason ;  no  sooner  knew  the  reason,  but  they 
sought  the  remedy :  and  in  these  degrees  they  have  made  a 
pair  of  stairs  to  marriage.  A.  Y.  v.  2. 

Indeed,  he  was  mad  for  her,  and  talk'd  of  Satan,  and  of 
limbo,  and  of  furies.  A.  W.  v.  3. 

But  if  thy  love  were  ever  like  to  mine, 
How  many  actions  most  ridiculous 
Hast  thou  been  drawn  to  by  thy  fantasy!  A.Y.  ii.  4. 

He  was  wont  to  speak  plain,  and  to  the  purpose,  iiko  an 
honest  man,  and  a  soldier ;  and  now  he  has  turn'd  ortho- 
grapher ;  his  words  are  a  very  fantastical  banquet,  just  sc 
many  strange  dishes.  M.  A.  ii.  3 

If  thou  remember'st  not  the  slightest  folly 
That  ever  love  did  make  thee  run  into, 
Thou  hast  not  lov'd.  A.  F.  ii.  I 

0 ! — And  I,  forsooth,  in  love ! 

1,  that  have  been  love's  whip ; 

A  very  beadle  to  a  humorous  sigh ; 
A  critic ;  nay,  a  night-watch  constable ; 
A  domineering  pedant  o'er  the  boy, 
Than  whom  no  mortal  so  magnificent  I 
This  wimpled,  whining,  purblind,  wayward  boy ; 
This  senior-junior,  giant-dwarf,  Dan  Cupid ; 
Regent  of  love-rhymes,  lord  of  folded  arms, 
The  anointed  sovereign  of  sighs  and  groans, 
Liege  of  all  loiterers  and  malcontents : 
*  *  *  * 

What  ?   1 1   1  love  I   I  sue  I   I  seek  a  wife  J 
A  woman,  that  is  like  a  German  clock, 
210 


LOV       ftjtffkffftiriii  iutinnanj.       LOV 

i/OVE, — continued. 

Still  a  repairing ;  ever  out  of  frame ; 

And  never  going  aright,  being  a  watch, 

But  being  watch' d  that  it  may  still  go  right  t       L.  L.  iii.  1. 

For  aught  that  ever  I  could  read, 
Could  ever  hear  by  tale  or  history, 
The  course  of  true  love  never  did  run  smooth  ; 
But,  either  it  was  different  in  blood ; 
0  cross  !  too  high  to  be  enthrall'd  to  low  I 
Or  else  misgraffed,  in  respect  of  years ; 
0  spite !  too  old  to  be  engag*d  to  young  1 
Or  else  it  stood  upon  the  choice  of  friends  : 

0  hell !  to  choose  love  by  another's  eye ! 
Or,  if  there  were  a  sympathy  in  choice, 
War,  death,  or  sickness  did  lay  siege  to  it ; 
Making  it  momentary  as  a  sound, 

Swift  as  a  shadow,  short  as  any  dream  ; 

Brief  as  the  lightning  in  the  collied  night, 

That,  in  a  spleen,  unfold  both  heaven  and  earth, 

And  ere  a  man  hath  power  to  say, — Behold  I 

The  jaws  of  darkness  do  devour  it  up : 

So  quick  bright  things  come  to  confusion.  M.  N.  i.  1 

For  know,  lago, 
But  that  I  love  the  gentle  Desdemona, 

1  would  not  my  unhoused  free  condition 
Put  into  circumspection  and  confine, 

For  the  sea's  worth.  0.  i.  2. 

Love's  reason's  without  reason.  Cym.  iv.  2. 

The  gods  themselves, 

Humbling  their  deities  to  love,  have  taken 
The  shapes  of  beasts  upon  them  :  Jupiter 
Became  a  bull  and  bellow'd ;  the  green  Neptune 
A  ram,  and  bleated  ;  and  the  fire-rob'd  god, 
Golden  Apollo,  a  poor  humble  swain, 
As  I  seem  now :     Their  transformations 
Were  never  for  a  piece  of  beauty,  rarer ; 
Nor  in  a  way  so  chaste :  since  my  desires 
Run  not  before  mine  honour.  W.  T.  iv.  3, 

He  says,  he  loves  my  daughter; 
I  think  so  too ;  for  never  gaz'd  the  moon 
Upon  the  water,  as  he'll  stand  and  read, 
As  'twere,  my  daughter's  eyes :  and,  to  be  plain, 
I  think,  there  is  not  half  a  kiss  to  choose, 
Who  loves  another  best  W.  T.  iv.  $ 


LOV       lljnltrspearian  iirtinnartj.       LOT 

LOVE,— continued. 

Still  harping  on  my  daughter : — yet  ho  knew  me  not  at 
first ;  he  said,  I  was  a  fishmonger:  He  is  far  gone,  far  gone. 

H.  ii.  2. 

Ever  till  now, 
When  men  were  fond,  I  smil'd,  and  wonder'd  how. 

M.  M.  ii.  2. 

All  fancy-sick  she  is,  and  pale  of  cheer, 
With  sighs  of  love.  M.  N.  iii.  2. 

They  are  but  beggars  that  can  count  their  worth  ; 
But  my  true  love  is  grown  to  such  excess, 
I  cannot  sum  up  half  my  sum  of  wealth.  R.  J.  ii.  6. 

Mine  eyes 

Were  not  in  fault,  for  she  was  beautiful ; 
Mine  ears,  that  heard  her  flattery  ;     nor  mine  heart, 
That  thought  her  like  her  seeming ;  it  had  been  vicious 
To  have  mistrusted  her.  Cym.  v  5. 

Soft,  let  us  see  ; — 

Write,  "  Lord  have  mercy  upon  us"  on  these  three ; 
They  are  infect^  1,  in  the  heart  it  lies  ; 
They  have  the  Blague,  and  caught  it  of  your  eyes. 

L.  L.  v.  2. 

A  lean  cheek, — a  blue  eye,  and  sunken, — an  unquestion- 
able spirit,— a  beard  neglected: — Then  your  hose  should 
be  ungartered,  your  bonnet  unbanded,  your  sleeve  unbut- 
toned, your  shoe  untied,  and  every  thing  about  you  demon- 
strating a  careless  desolation.  A.T.  iii.  2. 

If  he  love  her  not, 

And  be  not  from  his  reason  fall'n  thereon, 
Let  me  be  no  assistant  for  a  state, 
But  keep  a  farm  and  carters.  H.  ii.  2 

0  then,  give  pity 

To  her.  whose  state  is  such,  that  cannot  choose 
But  lend  and  give,  where  she  is  sure  to  lose ; 
That  seeks  not  to  find  what  her  search  implies, 
But,  riddle-like,  live  sweetly  where  she  dies.         Ji.W.'i.  3. 

He   is   far  gone,  far  gone:  and   truly  in    my  youth   I 
suffered  much  extremity  for  love ;  very  near  this.     H.  ii.  2. 
Here  comes  the  lady. — 0,  so  light  a  foot 
Will  ne'er  wear  nut  the  everlasting  flint. 
A  lover  may  bestride  the  gossamers 
That  idle  in  the  wanton  summer  air, 
And  yet  not  fall.  R,  J,  ii.  6. 

She  never  told  her  love, 
But  let  concealment,  like  a  worm  i'  the  bud. 


LOV       $jrftfclf?mia.|  SHrtianarq.       LOT 

LOVE, — continued. 

Feed  on  her  damask'd  cheek :  she  phr'i  in  thought ; 

And,  with  a  green  and  yellow  melancholy, 

She  sat,  like  Patience  on  a  monument. 

Smiling  at  grief.  T.  N.  ii.  4. 

However  we  do  praise  ourselves. 
Our  fancies  are  more  giddy  and  unfirm, 
More  longing,  wavering,  sooner  lost  and  won, 
Than  -women's  are.  T.  N.  .i,  4. 

We  men  may  say  more,  swear  more :  but  indeed, 
Our  shows  are  more  than  will ;  for  still  we  prove 
Much  in  our  vows,  but  little  in  our  love.  T.  N.  ii.  4 

0,  she  that  hath  a  heart  of  that  fine  frame, 
To  pay  this  debt  of  love  but  to  a  brother, 
How  will  she  love,  when  the  rich  golden  shaft 
Hath  kill'd  the  flock  of  all  affections  else 
That  live  in  her!  when  liver,  brain,  and  heart, 
These  sovereign  thrones,  are  all  supplied  and  fill'd 
(Her  sweet  perfections,)  with  one  self  king! — 
Away  before  me  to  sweet  beds  of  flowers  ; 
Love-thoughts  lie  rich,  when  canopied  with  bowers. 

T.N.i.1 

In  love,  the  heavens  themselves  do  guide  the  state, 
Money  buys  lands,  and  wives  are  sold  by  fate.      M.  W.  v.  5, 

I  have  done  penance  for  contemning  love ; 

Whose  high  imperious  thoughts  have  punish'd  me 

With  bitter  fasts,  with  penitential  groans, 

With  nightly  tears,  and  daily  heart-sore  sighs, 

For  in  revenge  of  my  contempt  of  love, 

Love  hath  chas'd  sleep  from  my  enthralled  eyes, 

And  made  them  watchers  of  mine  own  heart's  sorrow. 

T.G.  ii.4. 

I  know  no  ways  to  mince  it  in  love,  but  directly  to  say,  1 
love  you ;  then,  if  you  urge  me  further  than  to  say,  Do  you 
in  faith?  I  wear  out  my  suit.  Give  me  your  answer;  i' 
faith  do,  and  so  clap  hands,  and  a  bargain.  H.  V  v.  2. 

She,  sweet  lady,  dotes, 
Devoutly  dotes,  dotes  in  idolatry, 
Upon  this  spotted  and  inconstant  man.  M.  N'.  i.  i 

So  loving  to  my  mother, 

That  he  might  not  beteem  the  winds  of  heaven, 
Visit  her  face  too  roughly.  H.  i.  2. 

Hang  him,  truant ;  there's  no  true  drop  of  blood  in  him, 
to  be  truly  touch'd  with  love :  if  he  be  sad,  he  want* 
mcney.  M.A  in.  9 


LOV       (}iktfjttftMftt  Uutinnarn. 

LOVE,— continued. 

Sweet  love,  I  see,  changing  his  property, 

Turas  to  the  sourest  and  most  deadly  hate.          R.  II.  iii.  2 

It  is  the  show  and  seal  of  nature's  truth, 

Where  love's  strong  passion  is  impressed  in  youth. 

A.  W.  i.  3, 

To  hear  with  eyes  belongs  to  love's  fine  wit.  Poem» 

I  lov'd  Ophelia ;  forty  thousand  brothers 
Could  not,  with  all  their  quantity  of  love, 
Make  up  my  sum.  H.  v.  1. 

My  love  till  death,  my  humble  thanks,  my  prayers ; 
That  love,  which  virtue  begs,  and  virtue  grants. 

H.  VI.  PT.  in.  iii.  2, 
Why,  man,  she  is  mine  own  ; 
And  I  as  rich  in  having  such  a  jewel, 
As  twenty  seas,  if  all  their  sands  were  pearl, 
The  water,  nectar,  and  the  rocks  pure  gold.  T.  0.  ii.  4. 

What  dangerous  action,  stood  it  next  to  death, 

Would  I  not  undergo  for  one  calm  look  ? 

0,  'tis  the  curse  in  love,  and  still  approv'd, 

When  women  cannot  love  where  they're  beloved.  T.  0.  v.  4. 

Go  to  ;  it  is  a  plague 
That  Cupid  will  impose  for  my  neglect 
Of  his  almighty  dreadful  little  might. 
Well;  I  will  love,  write,  sigh,  pray,  sue,  and  groan; 
Some  men  must  love  my  lady,  and  some  Joan.    L.  L.  iii.  i. 

Good  Mistress  Page,  for  that  I  love  your  daughter 

In  such  a  righteous  fashion  as  I  do, 

Perforce,  against  all  checks,  rebukes,  and  manners, 

I  must  advance  the  colours  of  my  love, 

And  not  retire.  M.  W.  iii.  1 

With  adorations,  and  with  fertile  tears, 

With  groans  that  thunder  love,  with  sighs  of  fire.  T.  N.  i.  5. 

How  now  ? 

Even  so  quickly  may  one  catch  the  plague  ? 
Methinks,  I  feel  this  youth's  perfections, 
With  an  invisible  and  subtle  stealth, 
To  creep  in  at  mine  eyes.  T.  N.  L  6. 

A  murd'rous  guilt  shows  not  itself  more  noon 

Than  love  that  would  seem  hid ;  love's  night  is  soon. 

T.  N.  iii.  A. 

Pie,  Fie  1  how  wayward  is  this  foolish  love, 
That,  like  a  testy  babe,  will  scratch  the  nurse, 
And  presently,  all  humbled,  kiss  the  rod  1  T.  Q.  i.  Z 


LOT       f}ikiiitJirUi  iirtinttarif. 

LOVE, — continued. 

What  ?  do  I  love  her, 
That  I  desire  to  hear  her  speak  again, 
And  feast  upon  her  eyes  ?  M.M.  ii.  2. 

There's  beggary  in  tho  love  that  can  be  reckon'd. 

A.O'i.  1. 

Drawn  in  the  flattering  table  of  her  eye  ! 
Hang'd  in  the  frowning  wrinkle  of  her  brow  ! 
And  quarter'd  in  her  heart  1  K.  J.  ii.  2, 

They  are  in  the  very  wrath  »f  love,  and  they  will  to- 
gether ;  clubs  cannot  part  them.  A.  Y.  v.  2. 

Alas,  that  love,  so  gentle  in  his  view, 

Should  be  so  tyrannous  and  rough  in  proof!          R.  J.  i.  1, 

Love  will  suspect  where  is  no  cause  of  fear ; 

And  there  not  fear  where  it  should  most  distrust.     Poems. 

Alas,  that  love,  whose  view  is  muffled  still, 

Should,  without  eyes,  see  path-ways  to  his  will  1   R.  J.  i.  1. 

Were  I  crown'd  the  most  imperial  monarch, 
Thereof  most  worthy  ;  were  I  the  fairest  youth 
That  ever  made  eye  swerve  ;  had  force  and  knowledge, 
More  than  was  ever  man's, — I  would  not  prize  them, 
Without  her  love  :  for  her,  employ  them  all ; 
Commend  them,  and  condemn  them,  to  her  service, 
Or  to  their  own  perdition.  W.  T.  iv.  3. 

If  thou  be'st  valiant,  as  (they  say)  base  men,  being  in 
love,  have  then  a  nobility  in  their  natures,  more  than  is 
native  to  them, — listen  to  me,  O.  ii.  1. 

i  saw  Othello's  visage  in  his  mind ; 

And  to  his  honours  and  his  valiant  parts, 

Did  I  my  soul  and  fortunes  consecrate.  O.  i.  3. 

Madam,  you  have  bereft  me  of  all  words, 

Only  my  blood  speaks  to  you  in  my  veins.          M.  F.  iii.  2, 

Thou  art  most  rich,  being  poor ; 
.Most  choice,  forsaken ;  and  most  lov*d,  despis'd. 
Thee  and  thy  virtues  here  I  seize  upon.  K.  L.  i.  1. 

In  truth,  fair  Montague,  I  am  too  fond; 
And  therefore  thou  may'st  think  of  my  'haviour  light : 
But  trust  me,  gentlemen,  I'll  prove  more  true 
Than  those  that  have  more  cunning  to  bo  strange. 

R.  J.  il  2. 

Ah  me !  how  sweet  is  love  itself  possess'd, 
When  but  love's  shadows  are  so  rich  in  joy  ?        R.  J.  t.  1, 
Love's  invisible  soul.  T.C.  iii  I, 

21ft 


LOV        IjjflfospBartan  Didinnnrij.        u>\ 

LOVE,  —  continued, 

Her  virtues,  graced  with  external  gifts, 

Do  breed  love's  settled  passions  in  my  heart. 


His  love  was  an  eternal  plant  ; 
Whereof  the  root  was  fix'd  in  virtue's  ground, 
The  leaves  and  fruit  maintain'd  with  beauty's  sun. 

H.  VI.  FT.  in.  iii.  3 

First  you  have  learn'd  like  Sir  Proteus,  to  wreath  your 
arms,  like  a  malecontent  ;  to  relish  a  love-song,  like  a  robin- 
red-breast  ;  to  walk  alone,  like  one  that  had  the  pestilence  ; 
to  sigh,  like  a  school-boy  that  had  lost  his  A  B  C  ;  to  weep, 
like  a  young  wench  that  had  buried  her  grandam  ;  to  fast, 
like  one  that  takes  diet  ;  to  watch,  like  one  that  fears  rob- 
bing ;  to  speak  puling,  like  a  beggar  at  Hallowmas. 

T.G.ii.  ] 

Holy  St.  Francis,  what  a  change  is  here  ! 
Is  Rosaline,  whom  thou  didst  love  so  dear, 
So  soon  forsaken  ?     Young  men's  love  then  lies 
Not  truly  in  their  hearts,  but  in  their  eyes. 
Jesu  Maria  !  what  a  deal  of  brine 
Hath  wash'd  thy  sallow  cheeks  for  Rosaline  ! 
How  much  salt  water  thrown  away  in  waste, 
To  season  love,  that  of  it  doth  not  taste  ' 
The  sun  not  yet  thy  sighs  from  heaven  clears, 
Thy  old  groans  ring  yet  in  my  antient  ears  ; 
Lo,  here  upon  thy  cheek  the  stain  doth  sit 
Of  an  old  tear  that  is  not  wash'd  off  yet  : 
If  e'er  thou  wast  thyself,  and  these  woes  thine, 
Thou  and  these  woes  were  all  for  Rosaline  ;— 
And  art  thou  chang'd  ?  R.  7.  ii.  3 

There  lives  within  the  very  flame  of  love 

A  kind  of  wick,  or  snuff,  that  will  abate  it  : 

And  nothing  is  at  a  like  goodness  still  ; 

For  goodness,  growing  to  a  pleurisy, 

Dies  in  its  own  too-much.  H.  iv.  7 

0,  gentle  Romeo, 

If  thou  dost  love,  pronounce  it  faithfully 
Or  if  thou  think'st  I  am  too  quickly  won, 
I'll  frown,  and  be  perverse,  and  say  thee  nay, 
So  thou  wilt  woo  :  but,  else,  not  for  the  world       R.  J.  iii.  2 
See,  how  she  leans  her  cheek  upon  her  hand  ! 
0,  that  I  were  a  glove  upon  that  hand, 
That  I  might  touch  that  cheek  !  R,  J.  ii.  2. 

She  lov'd  me  for  the  dangers  I  had  pass'd  ; 
And  I  lov'd  her  that  she  did  pity  them.  0.  i.  3 


LOT        lijahsjuaruti  Uutiniurtj. 


LOVE,  —  continued. 

Men  have  died  from  time  to  time,  and  worms  have  eaten 
them,  but  not  for  love.  A.  T.  iv.  1. 

Ay,  but  hearken,  Sir  j  though  the  cameleon  love  can  feed 
on  the  air,  I  am  one  that  am  nourished  by  my  victuals,  and 
would  fain  have  meat.  21  G.  ii.  1. 

Love  is  your  master,  for  he  masters  you  : 
And  he  that  is  so  yoked  by  a  fool 

Should'st  not,  methinks,  be  chronicled  for  wise.     T.  G  i.  1. 
If  it  prove  so,  then  loving  goes  by  haps  ; 
Some  Cupids  kill  with  arrows,  some  with  traps. 

M.  A.  iii.  1. 

For  now  my  love  is  thaw'd  ; 
Which,  like  a  waxen  image  'gainst  a  fire, 
Bears  no  impression  of  the  thing  it  was.  T.  G.  ii.  4. 

With  love's  light  wings  did  I  o'er-perch  these  walls  ; 
For  stony  limits  cannot  hold  love  out.  R.  J.  ii.  2. 

Tut,  man  !  one  fire  burns  out  another's  burning, 
One  pain  is  lessen'd  by  another's  anguish  ; 

Turn  giddy,  and  be  holp  by  backward  turning  ; 
One  desperate  grief  cures  with  another's  languish: 

Take  thou  some  new  infection  to  thy  eye, 

And  the  rank  poison  of  the  old  will  die.  R  J.  i.  3. 

How  silver-sweet  sound  lovers'  tongues  by  night, 

Like  softest  music  to  attending  ears  !  R.  J.  ii.  2 

0,  ten  times  faster  Venus'  pigeons  fly 

To  seal  love's  bonds  new  made,  than  they  are  wont 

To  keep  obliged  faith  unforfeited.  M.  V.  ii.  6. 

Time  goes  on  crutches  till  love  have  all  his  rites. 

M.  A.  ii.  1. 

The  wound's  invisible 

That  love's  keen  arrows  make.  A.  Y.  iii.  5. 

Love  is  not  love  when  it  is  mingled  with  regards  that 

stand  aloof  from  the  entire  point.  K.  L.  i.  1. 

Dove-drawn  Venus.  T.  iv.  1. 

One  woman  is  fair  ;  yet  I  am  well  :  another  is  wise  ;  yet 
I  am  well  :  another  is  virtuous  ;  yet  I  am  well  :  but  till  all 
graces  be  in  one  woman,  one  woman  shall  not  come  into 
ray  grace.  Rich  she  shall  be,  that's  certain  ;  wise,  or  I'll 
none  ;  virtuous,  or  I'll  never  cheapen  her  ;  fair,  or  I'll 
never  look  on  her  ;  mild,  or  come  not  near  me  ;  noble,  or 
not  I  for  an  angel  ;  of  good  discourse,  an  excellent  musi- 
cian, and  her  hair  shall  be  of  what  colour  it  please  God. 

M.  A.  ii.  3. 

nr  it 


LOV       ijjakrspmnjitt  ihtiomirtj.        LOV 

LOVE,  ETERNITF  or. 

So  that  eternal  love  in  love's  fresh  case, 
Weighs  not  the  dust  and  injuries  of  age, 
Nor  gives  to  necessary  wrinkles  place, 
But  makes  antiquities  for  aye  his  page  : 
Finding  the  first  conceit  of  love  there  bred, 
Where  time  and  outward  forms  would  show  it  dead. 

Poems 

LETTBR. 

As  much  love  in  rhyme, 
As  would  be  cramm'd  up  in  a  sheet  of  paper, 
Writ  on  both  sides  the  leaf,  margent  and  all  ; 
That  he  was  fain  to  seal  in  Cupid's  name.  L.  L.  v.  2. 

She  makes  it  strange  ;  but  she  would  be  best  pleas'd 
To  be  so  anger'd  with  another  letter.  T.  G.  i.  2 

's  MESSENGEBS. 

Love's  heralds  should  be  thoughts, 
Which  ten  times  faster  glide  than  the  sun's  beams, 
Driving  back  shadows  over  low'ring  hills.  R.  J.  ii.  5 

LOVERS'  POETRY. 

Speak  but  one  rhyme  and  I  am  satisfied ; 
Cry  but, — Ah  me  1  couple  but — love  and  dove.       R.  J.  ii.  1 
Woo  in  rhyme,  like  a  blind  harper's  song.  L.  L.  v.  2 

But  are  you  so  much  in  love  as  your  rhymes  speak  ? 

A.Y.  iii.2 

— ^—  TOKENS. 

Wear  this  from  me ;  one  out  of  suits  with  fortune, 
That  could  give  more,  but  that  her  hand  lacks  means. 

JLF.i.2. 

But  she  so  loves  the  token, 
(For  he  conjurM  her  she  would  ever  keep  it,) 
That  she  reserves  it  evermore  about  her, 
To  kiss  and  talk  to.  O.  iii.  3. 

Sooth,  when  I  was  young, 
And  handed  love,  as  you  do,  I  was  wont 
To  load  my  she  with  knacks ;  I  would  have  ransack'd 
The  pedlar's  silken  treasury,  and  have  pour'd  it 
To  her  acceptance.  W.T.  iv.  3 

Take  these  again ;  for,  to  the  noble  mind, 

Rich  gifts  wax  poor,  when  givers  prove  unkind.      H.  iii.  I 

'B  Vows  (See  also  OATHS). 

Ay,  springes  to  catch  wood-cocks.     I  do  know, 
When  the  blood  burns,  how  prodigal  the  soul 
Lends  the  tongue  vows :  these  blazes,  daughter, 

ni 


LO\ 


LOADER'S  Vows,—  continued. 

Giving  more  light  than  heat,  —  extinct  in  both, 

Even  in  their  promise,  as  it  is  a  making,  — 

You  must  not  take  for  fire.  H.  i.  3. 

I  swear  to  thee  by  Cupid's  strongest  bow  ; 

By  his  best  arrow  with  the  golden  head  ; 

By  the  simplicity  of  Venus'  doves  ; 

By  that  which  knitteth  souls  and  prospers  loves  ; 

And  by  that  fire  which  burn'd  the  Carthage  queen, 

When  the  false  Trojan  under  sail  was  seen  ; 

By  all  the  vows  that  ever  men  have  broke, 

In  number  more  than  ever  woman  spoke  ;  — 

In  that  same  place  thou  hast  appointed  me, 

To-morrow  truly  will  I  meet  with  thee.  M.  N.  i.  1 

Yet,  if  thou  swear'st, 
Thou  may'st  prove  false  ;  at  lovers'  vows, 
They  say,  Jove  laughs.  R.  J.  ii.  2. 

Lady,  by  yonder  blessed  moon  I  swear, 
That  tips  with  silver  all  these  fruit-tree  tops.         R.  J.  ii.  2. 

Swearing,  till  my  very  roof  was  dry 
With  oaths  of  love.  M.  V.  iii.  2. 

Doubt  thou  the  stars  are  fire  ; 

Doubt  that  the  sun  doth  move  : 
Doubt  truth  to  be  a  liar  ; 

But  never  doubt  I  love.  H.  ii.  2. 

Do  not  swear  at  all; 

Or,  if  thou  wilt,  swear  by  thy  gracious  self, 

Which  is  the  god  of  my  idolatry, 

And  I'll  believe  thee.  R.  J.  ii.  2. 

Was  is  not  is  ;  besides,  the  oath  of  a  lover  is  no  stronger 
than  the  word  of  a  tapster  ;  they  are  both  the  confirmers 
of  false  reckonings.  A.  Y.  iii.  4. 

Stealing  her  sonl  with  many  vows  of  faith, 

And  ne'er  a  true  one.  M.  V.  v.  1. 

That  suck'd  the  honey  of  his  music  VOTTB.  H,  iii.  1. 

0,  men's  vows  are  women's  traitors.  Gym.  iii.  4. 

WVELINESS. 

She  is  full  of  most  blessed  conditions.  0.  ii.  1. 

Diana's  lip 
Is  not  more  smooth  and  rubious.  T,  N.  i.  4 

Of  Nature's  gifts  thou  may'st  with  lilies  bout, 

And  with  the  half-blown  rose.  K.  J.  iii.  1 


LOV        IjjukBBjiEiman  iirtinniirtj.       MAD 

LOVE -WOUND. 

Shot,  by  heaven!  Proceed,  sweet  Cupid;  thou  hast 
thump'd  him  with  thy  bird-bolt  under  the  left  pap. 

L.  L.  iv.  3. 

Alas,  poor  Romeo,  he  is  already  dead  ;  stabbed  with  a 
white  wench's  black  eye  ;  shot  through  the  ear  with  a  lovo- 
Bong ;  the  very  pin  of  his  heart  cleft  with  the  blind  bow- 
boy's  butt-shaft.  R.  J.  ii.  4. 

LUCK. 

You're  a  made  old  man  ;  if  the  sins  of  your  youth  are 
forgiven  you,  you're  well  to  live.  Gold !  all  gold  ! 

W.T.  iii.  3 

JHL 

MACBETH. 

Yet  I  do  fear  thy  nature  ; 
It  is  too  full  o'  the  milk  of  human  kindness, 
To  catch  the  nearest  way  :  Thou  would'st  be  great ; 
Art  not  without  ambition  ;  but  without 
The  illness  should  attend  it.    What  thou  would'st  highly, 
That  would'st  thou  holily  ;  would'st  not  play  false, 
And  yet  would'st  wrongly  win ;  thou'dst  have,  great  Glamis, 
That  which  cries,  "  Thus  thou  must  do,  if  thou  have  it ; 
And  that  which  rather  thou  dost  fear  to  do 
Than  wishest  should  be  undone."  M.  i.  5 

MAD-CAP. 

Why,  what  a  mad-cap  hath  heaven  lent  us  here !    K.  J.  i.  1. 
Well,  then,  once  in  my  days  I'll  be  a  mad-cap. 

H.IV.  PT.  i.  i.  2. 

MADNESS  (See  also  DESPONDENCY,  DERANGEMENT). 

Your  noble  son  is  mad : 
Mad,  call  I  it :  for,  to  define  true  madness, 
What  is't,  but  to  be  nothing  else  but  mad  ?  H.  ii.  2. 

A  sight  most  pitiful  in  the  meanest  wretch  •, 
Past  speaking  of  in  a  king.  K.  L.  iv.  6. 

And  he   repulsed,  (a  short  tale  to  make,) 
Fell  into  a  sadness,  then  into  a  fast ; 
Thence  to  a  wateh ;  thence  into  a  weakness  ; 
Thence  tu  a  lightness :  and,  by  this  declension, 
Into  the  madness  wherein  now  he  raves.  H.  ii.  2 

Alack,  'tis  he ;  why,  he  was  met  even  now 
AB  mad  as  the  vex  d  sea ;  singing  aloud ; 
Crown' d  with  rank  fumitor,  and  furrow  weeds, 

m 


MAD       $jtiktfjrtfttifi  BicHBuarij.       MAI 

M  ADNESS,— cont  inued. 

With  hardocks,  hemlock,  nettles,  cuckoo-flowers, 

Darnel,  and  all  the  idle  weeds  that  grow 

[n  our  sustaining  corn.  K.  L.  iv. 4 

Oh,  he  is  more  mad 

Than  Telamon  for  his  shield ;  the  boar  of  Thessaly 
Was  never  so  imbost.  A.  C.  iv.  11 

0,  what  a  noble  mind  is  here  o'erthrown ! 

The  courtier's,  soldier's,  scholar's  eye,  tongue,  sword  • 

The  expectancy  and  rose  of  the  fair  state, 

The  glass  of  fashion,  and  the  mould  of  form, 

The  observ'd  of  all  observers ;  quite,  quite  down. 

And  I,  of  ladies  most  deject  and  wretched, 

That  suck'd  the  honey  of  his  music  vows, 

Now  see  that  sovereign  and  most  noble  reason, 

Like  sweet  bells  jangled,  out  of  tune  and  harsh; 

That  unmatch'd  form  and  feature  of  blown  youth, 

Blasted  with  ecstacy :  0,  woe  is  me  1 

To  have  seen  what  I  have  seen,  see  what  I  see !      H.  iii.  1 

This  is  mere  madness : 
And  thus  awhile  the  fit  will  work  on  him ; 
Anon,  as  patient  as  the  female  dove, 
When  that  her  golden  couplets  are  disclos'd, 
His  silence  will  sit  drooping.  H.  v.  i 

Essentially  mad,  without  seeming  so.          H.  IV.  PT.  I.  ii.  4. 

She  speaks  much  of  her  father ;  says,  she  hears, 

There's  tricks  i'  the  world ;  and  hems,  and  beats  her  heart , 

Spurns  enviously  at  straws ;  speaks  things  in  doubt, 

That  carry  but  half  sense :  her  speech  is  nothing, 

Yet  the  unshaped  use  of  it,  doth  move 

The  hearers  to  collection.  H.  iv.  5. 

0  let  me  not  be  mad,  not  mad,  sweet  heaven  I 

Keep  me  in  temper ;  I  would  not  be  mad  1  K.  L.  i.  5. 

How  pregnant  sometimes  his  replies  are !  a  happiness 
that  often  madness  hits  on,  which  reason  and  sanity  could 
not  so  prosperously  be  delivered  of!  H.  ii.2. 

It  is  the  very  error  of  the  moon ; 
She  comes  more  near  the  earth  than  she  was  w  ?nt ; 
And  makes  men  mad.  0.  v.  2. 

0,  matter  and  impertinency  mix'd ! 

Reason  in  madness  1  K.  L.  IT.  6 

That  he  is  mad,  'tis  true ;  'tis  true,  'tis  pity ; 
And  pity  'tis,  'tis  true.  H.  ii.  2 

Mad  world,  mad  kings,  mad  composition.  K.  J.  ii.  2 

221  M. 


MAD      lijuiuspr  nrhn  8irtinnan{.      MAO 


M  ADNESS,—  continued. 

I  am  as  mad  as  he, 
If  ?ad  and  merry  madness  equal  be.  T.  N.  iii.  4. 

0  prince,  I  conjure  thee,  as  thou  believ'st 
There  is  another  comfort  than  this  world, 
That  thou  neglect  me  not,  with  that  opinion 

That  I  am  touch'd  with  madness.  M.  M.  v.  I. 

It  is  not  madness, 

That  I  have  utter'd  :  bring  me  to  the  test, 
And  I  the  matter  will  re-word  ;  which  madness 
Would  gambol  from.  H.  iii.  4 

Madness  in  great  ones  must  not  unwatch'd  go.        H.  iii.  1. 
--  ,  METHODICAL. 

By  mine  honesty, 

If  she  be  mad,  (as  I  believe  no  other,) 
Her  madness  hath  the  oddest  frame  of  sense, 
Such  a  dependency  of  thing  on  thing, 
As  e'er  I  heard  in  madness.  M.  M.  v.  1 

MAGNANIMITY. 

Our  spoils  he  kick'd  at  ; 

And  look'd  upon  things  precious,  as  they  were 
The  common  muck  o'the  world  :  he  covets  less 
Than  misery  itself  would  give  ;  rewards 
His  deeds  with  doing  them  ;  and  is  content 
To  spend  the  time  to  end  it.  (7.  ii.  2. 

Had  I  great  Juno's  power, 

The  strong-wing'd  Mercury  should  fetch  thee  up, 
And  set  thee  by  Jove's  side.  A.  C.  iv.  13. 

Your  honours'pardon  ; 

1  had  rather  have  my  wounds  to  heal  again, 

Than  hear  say  how  I  got  them.  C.  ii.  2. 

I  had  rather  have  one  to  scratch  my  head  i'  the  sum, 

When  the  alarum  was  struck,  than  idly  sit 

To  hear  my  nothings  monster'd.  C.  ii.  2. 

He  had  rather  venture  all  his  limbs  for  honour, 

Than  one  of  his  ears  to  hear  it.  G.  ii.  2. 

Bettering  thy  loss  makes  the  bad  causer  worse  ; 

Revolving  this  will  teach  thee  how  to  curse.       R.  HI.  iv.  4. 

And  those  that  leave  their  valiant  bones  in  France, 

Dying  like  men,  though  buried  in  your  dunghills, 

They  shall  be  fam'd  ;  for  there  the  sun  shall  greet  them, 

And  draw  their  honours  reeking  up  to  heaven.     H.  V.  iv.  3. 

If  we  are  mark'd  to  die,  we  are  enough 

To  do  our  country  loss  ;  and  if  to  live, 

The  fewer  men,  the  greater  share  of  honour.        H.  V.  if.  3. 

m 


MAG       f  jjdttHpHriau  Dntiottnnf. 


MAGNANIMITY,—  continued. 

0  !  the  blood  more  stirs, 

To  rouse  a  lion  than  to  start  a  hare.  H.  IV.  PT.  i.  i.  3 

My  noble  girls  !  —  Ah,  women,  women  1  look, 
Our  lamp  is  spent,  its  out  :  Good  Sirs,  take  heart  : 
We'll  bury  him  :  and  then,  what's  brave,  what's  noble, 
Let's  do  it  after  the  high  Roman  fashion, 
And  make  death  proud  to  take  us.  A.  C.  iv.  IS 

His  valour,  shown  upon  our  crests  to-day, 
Hath  taught  us  how  to  cherish  such  hign  deeds, 
Even  in  the  bosom  of  our  adversaries.         H.  IV.  PT.  i.  v.  5, 

MALADMINISTRATION. 

I  have  misused  the  king's  press  damnably. 

H.  IV.  PT.  i.  iv.  2 

MALEDICTION. 

All  the  charms 
Of  Sycorax,  toads,  beetles,  bats,  light  on  you.  T.  i.  2 

The  common  curse  of  mankind,  folly  and  ignorance,  be 
thine  in  great  revenue  !  heaven  bless  thee  from  a  tutor,  and 
discipline  come  not  near  thee  !  Let  thy  blood  be  thy  di- 
rection till  thy  death  !  then  if  she,  that  lays  thee  out,  says, 
thou  art  a  fair  corse,  I'll  be  sworn,  and  sworn  upon't,  she 
never  shrouded  any  but  lazars.  Amen.  T.  C.  ii.  3. 

You  nimble  lightnings,  dart  your  blinding  flames 
Into  her  scornful  eyes  I     Infect  her  beauty, 
You  fen-suck'd  fogs,  drawn  by  the  powerful  sun, 
To  fall  and  blast  her  pride  1  K.  L.  ii.  4 

Feed  not  thy  sovereign's  foe,  my  gentle  earth, 
Nor,  with  thy  sweets,  comfort  his  ravenous  sense  : 
But  let  thy  spiders,  that  suck  up  thy  venom, 
And  heavy  gaited  toads,  lie  in  their  way  ; 
Doing  annoyance  to  the  treacherous  feet, 
Which  with  usurping  steps  do  trample  thee. 
Yield  stinging  nettles  to  mine  enemies  ; 
And  when  they  from  thy  bosom  pluck  a  flower, 
Guard  it  I  pray  thee,  with  a  lurking  adder.         72.  II,  iii.  2 
As  wicked  dew,  as  e'er  my  mother  brush'd, 
With  raven's  feather,  from  unwholesome  fen, 
Drop  on  you  both  :  a  south-west  blow  on  ye, 
Ana  blister  you  all  o'er.  T7.  i.  2. 

Richard  yet  lives,  hell's  black  intelligencer  ; 
Only  reserv'd  their  factor  to  buy  souls, 
And  send  them  thither:  But  at  hand,  at  hani, 
Ensues  his  piteous  and  unpitied  end  ; 

gapes,  hell  burns,  fiends  roar,  saints  pray, 


MAL       Ijjabsptimatt  Dirtinttanj.       MAI 

MALEDICTION,— continued. 

To  have  him  suddenly  convey'd  from  hence ; 

Cancel  his  bond  of  life,  dear  God,  I  pray, 

That  I  may  live  to  Bay — The  dog  is  dead  I          R.  III.  iv.  4, 

The  plague  of  Greece  upon  thee,  thou  mongrel  beef-witted 
ford  !  T,  C.  ii.  1. 

Hear,  Nature,  hear ;  dear  goddess,  hear ! 

*  *  *  Suspend  thy  purpose,  if 
Thou  didst  intend  to  make  this  creature  fruitful  1 

*  *  *  If  she  must  teem, 
Create  her  child  of  spleen  ;  that  it  may  live 
And  be  a  thwart  disnatur'd  torment  to  her ! 
Let  it  stamp  wrinkles  on  her  brow  of  youth  ! 

'   With  cadent  tears  fret  channels  in  her  cheeks ; 
Turn  all  her  mother's  pains  and  benefits 
To  laughter  and  contempt ;  that  she  may  feel 
How  sharper  than  a  serpent's  tooth  it  ia 
To  have  a  thankless  child  I  K.  L.  i.  4, 

The  worm  of  conscience  still  be-gnaw  thy  soul  I 

Thy  friends  suspect  for  traitors  whilst  thou  liv'st. 

And  take  deep  traitors  for  thy  dearest  friends  J 

No  sleep  close  ur>  tbat.  deadly  eye  of  thine, 

Unless  it  be  while  some  tormenting  dream 

Affrights  thee  with  a  hell  of  ugly  devils  1  R.  III.  i.  3 

You  taught  me  language  ;  and  my  profit  on't 

Is,  I  know  how  to  curse  :  the  red  plague  rid  you 

For  learning  me  your  language.  T.  i.  £• 

Now  the  red  pestilence  strike  all  trades  in  Rome, 

And  occupations  perish !  C.  iv.  1. 

All  the  stor'd  vengeance  of  heaven  fall 

On  her  ingrateful  tof  1     Strike  her  young  bones, 

You  taking  airs  with  lameness  !  K.  L.  ii.  4. 

If  heaven  have  any  grievous  plague  in  store, 

Exceeding  those  that  I  can  wish  upon  thee, 

0,  let  them  keep  it  till  thy  sins  be  ripe, 

And  then  hurl  down  their  indignation 

On  thee,  the  troubler  of  the  poor  world's  peace.      R.  iii  3. 

Now,  all  the  plagues  that  in  the  pendulous  air 
Hang  fated  o'er  men's  faults,  light  on  thy  daughters. 

K.  L.  iii,  4 
A  plague  upon  your  epileptic  visage.  K.  L.  ii.  2 

Let  this  pernicious  hour 

Stand  a/e  accursed  in  the  calendar  1  M.  iv.  1 

All  the  infections  that  the  sun  sucks  up, 
884 


S)irthtian|.       MAN 


From  bogs,  fens,  flats,  on  Prosper  fall,  and  make  him 
By  inch-meal  a  disease  !  2".  ii.  2. 

If  ever  he  have  child,  abortive  be  it, 
Prodigious,  and  untimely  brought  to  light. 
Whose  ugly  and  unnatural  aspect 
May  fright  the  hopeful  mother  at  the  view  ; 
And  that  be  heir  to  his  unhappiness.  B.  III.  i.  2. 

Dower'd  with  our  curse,  and  stranger'd  with  an  oath.  K.I..  \  1  . 
Why,  thou  damnable  box  of  envy,  thou,  what  meanest 
thou,  to  curse  thus.  T.C.  v.  1. 

MALEVOLENCE. 

Had  I  power,  I  should 
Pour  the  sweet  milk  of  concord  into  hell, 
Uproar  the  universal  peace,  confound 
All  unity  on  earth.  M,  iv.  3. 

I  will  fight 

Against  my  cankerM  country,  with  the  spleen 
Of  all  the  under  fiends.  C.  iv.  f» 

MALICE. 

Men,  that  make 

Envy,  and  crooked  malice  nourishment, 

Dare  bite  the  best.  H.  VIII.  v.  2 

MALIGNITY. 

A  dagger  of  the  mind  ;  a  false  creation, 

Proceeding  from  the  heat-oppressed  brain.  AT  ii.  1. 

MAN  (See  also  ILLUSION,  LIFE,  DEATH). 

What  a  piece  of  work  is  man  !  How  noble  in  reason  ! 
how  infinite  in  faculties  !  in  form,  and  moving,  how  express 
and  admirable!  in  action,  how  like  an  angel  !  in  apprehen- 
sion, how  like  a  god!  the  beauty  of  the  world!  the  para- 
gon of  animals  !  If.  ii.  2. 

They  say,  best  men  are  moulded  out  of  faults, 
And,  for  the  most,  become  much  more  the  better, 
For  being  a  little  bad.  M.  M.  v.  1 

Ay,  in  the  catalogue  ye  go  for  men  ; 
As  hounds,  and  greyhounds,  mongrels,  spaniels,  curs, 
Shoughs,  water-rugs,  and  demi-wolves  are  clep'd, 
All  by  the  name  of  dogs  :  the  valued  file 
Distinguishes  the  swift,  the  slow,  the  subtle, 
The  house-keeper,  the  hunter,  every  one 
According  to  the  gift  which  bounteous  Nature 
Hath  in  him  clos'd  ;  whereby  he  doth  receive 
Particular  addition,  from  the  bill 

That  writes  them  all  alike:  and  so  of  men.  V-  '"•  * 

•M 


MAN       ijjnbsjiBEriiin  iirtinnan[,       MAU 

MAN, — continued. 

We  came  crying  hither.  K.  L.  iv.  6. 

Lord,  we  know  what  we  are,  but  know  not  what  we  mav 
be.  H.  iv.  5. 

Know  thou  this : — that  men 

Are  as  the  time  is.  K.  L.  v.  3 

0  momentary  grace  of  mortal  men, 
Which  we  more  hunt  for  than  the  grace  of  God ! 
Who  builds  his  hope  in  air  of  your  fair  looks 
Lives  like  a  drunken  sailor  on  a  mast ; 
Ready,  with  every  nod,  to  tumble  down 
Into  the  fatal  bowels  of  the  deep.  R.  III.  iii.  4. 

This  was  the  noblest  Roman  of  them  all : 

All  the  conspirators,  save  only  he, 

Did  that  they  did  in  envy  of  great  Osesar ; 

He,  only,  in  a  general  honest  thought, 

And  common  good  to  all,  made  one  of  them. 

His  life  was  gentle  ;  and  the  elements 

So  mix'd  in  him,  that  nature  might  stand  up, 

ind  say  to  all  the  world,  This  was  a  man!  J.C.  v.  5. 

.  s  man  no  more  than  this?  K.  L.\u  4 

A  breath  thou  art, 
(Servile  to  all  the  skiey  influences), 
That  dost  this  habitation,  where  thou  keep'st, 
Hourly  afflict ;  merely,  thou  art  death's  fool ; 
For  him  thou  labour'st  by  thy  flight  to  shun, 
And  yet  runn'st  toward  him  still :  Thou  art  not  noble : 
For  all  the  accommodations  that  thou  bear'st. 
Are  nurs'd  by  baseness  :  Thou  art  by  no  means  valiant ; 
For  thou  dost  fear  the  soft  and  tender  fork 
Of  a  poor  worm  :  Thy  best  of  rest  is  sleep, 
And  that  thou  oft  provok'st ;  yet  grossly  fear'st 
Thy  death,  which  is  no  more.     Thou  art  not  thyself; 
For  thou  exist' st  on  many  a  thousand  grains 
That  issue  out  of  dust:  Happy  thou  art  not; 
For  what  thou  hast  not,  still  thou  striv'st  to  get : 
And  what  thou  hast,  forget'st :  Thou  art  not  certain  ; 
For  thy  complexion  shifts  to  strange  effects, 
After  the  moon :  If  thou  art  rich,  thou  art  poor ; 
For,  like  an  ass,  whose  back  with  ingots  bows, 
Thou  bear'st  thy  heavy  riches  but  a  journey, 
Till  death  unloads  thee :  Friend  hast  thou  none ; 
For  thine  own  bowels,  which  do  call  thee  sire, 
The  mere  effusion  of  thy  proper  loins, 
Do  curse  the  gout,  serpigo,  and  the  rheum, 
For  ending  thee  no  sooner :  Thou  hast  nor  youth,  nwr  ago  • 

226 


MAN       ftjriktiptfifiii  iultlltfff.       MAN 


M  AN,  —  continued. 

But,  as  it  were,  an  after-dinner's  sleep, 

Dreaming  on  both  ;  for  all  thy  blessed  youth 

Becomes  as  aged,  and  does  beg  tho  alms 

Of  palsied  eld  ;  and  when  thou  art  old,  and  rich, 

Thou  hast  neither  heat,  affection,  limb,  nor  beauty, 

To  make  thy  riches  pleasant.     What's  yet  in  this, 

That  bears  the  name  of  life  ?     Yet  in  this  life 

Lie  hid  more  thousand  deaths  :  yet  death  we  fear, 

That  makes  these  odds  all  even.  M,  M.  iii.  1 

Foolish  wench  1 

To  the  most  of  men  this  is  a  Caliban, 
And  they  to  him  are  angels.  ,    T.  i.  2 

0  the  difference  of  man  and  man  !  K.  L.  i  v.  2. 
God  made  him,  therefore  let  him  pass  for  a  man.  M.  V.  i.  2 

There  is  no  trust, 

No  faith,  no  honesty  in  men  ;  all  perjur'd, 
All  forsworn,  all  naught,  all  dissemblers.  R.J.  iii.  2. 

A  rarer  spirit  never 

Did  steer  humanity  ;  but  you,  gods,  will  give  us 
Some  faults  to  make  us  men.  A.  C.  v.  1. 

When  we  are  born,  we  cry,  that  we  are  come 
To  this  great  stage  of  fools.  K.  L.  iv.  6. 

He  was  not  born  to  shame  : 
Upon  his  brow  shame  is  asham'd  to  sit  ; 
For  'tis  a  throne  where  honor  may  be  crown'd 
Sole  monarch  of  the  universal  earth.  JR.  J.  iii.  2. 

lie  was  a  man,  take  him  for  all  in  all, 

1  shall  not  look  upon  his  like  again.  H.  i.  2. 

You  rogue,  here's  lime  in  this  sack  too  :  There  is  nothing 
bat  roguery  to  be  found  in  villainous  man. 

H.  IV.  PT.  i.  ii.  4. 
Every  man  is  odd.  T.  C.  iv.  5. 

Who  lives,  that's  not 

Depraved,  o«  depraves  ?  who  dies,  that  bears 
Not  one  spurn  to  their  graves  of  their  friends'  gift  f 

Man  is  a  giddy  thing,  and  this  is  my  conclusion. 


MANHOOD  DETERIORATED. 

But  manhood  is  melted  into  courtesies,  valour  into  com- 
pliment, and  men  are  turned  into  tongue,  and  trim  onet 
too  :  he  is  now  as  valiant  as  Hercules  that  only  tells  a  lie, 
and  swears  to  it.  M.  A.  iv.  1 

M 


MAN       t}aktjf*jftiifi  lirtinttttrtj.       MAI; 

MANHOOD  DETERIORATED, — continued. 

Go  thy  ways,  old  Jack ;  die  when  thou  wilt,  if  manhood, 
good  manhood,  be  not  forgot  upon  the  face  of  the  earth, 
then  am  I  a  shotten  herring.  H.  IV.  FT.  i.  ii.  4. 

MANUSCRIPT. 

I  once  did  hold  it,  as  our  statists  do, 

A  baseness  to  write  fair,  and  labour'd  much 

How  to  forget  that  learning ;  but,  sir,  now 

It  did  me  yeoman's  service.  H.  v.  - 

MARRIAGE  (SEE  also  ESPOUSAL). 
A  contract  of  eternal  bond  of  love, 
Confirmed  by  mutual  joinder  of  your  hands, 
Attested  by  the  holy  close  of  lips, 
Strengthened  by  jnterchangement  of  your  rings  ; 
And  all  the  ceremony  of  this  compact 
Seal'd  in  my  function  by  my  testimony.  T.  N.  v.  J . 

Marriage  is  a  matter  of  more  worth 
Than  to  be  dealt  in  by  attorneyship. 
For  what  is  wedlock  forced,  but  a  hell, 
An    age  of  discord  and  continual  strife  ? 
Whereas  the  contrary  bringeth  forth  bliss, 
And  is  a  pattern  of  celestial  peace.  H.  VI.  PT.  i.  v.  5 

Earthlier  happy  is  the  rose  distill'd, 
Than  that,  which,  withering  on  the  virgin  thorn, 
Grows,  lives,  and  dies,  in  single  blessedness.        M.  N.  i.  1. 
She's  not  well  married,  that  lives  married  long  ; 
But  she's  best  married,  that  dies  married  young. 

R.  J.  iv.  5. 

Pale  primroses, 

That  die  unmarried,  ere  they  can  behold 
Bright  Phoebus  in  his  strength,  a  malady 
Most  incident  to  maids.  W.  T.  iv.  3 

But,  mistress,  know  yourself;  down  on  your  knees, 
And  thank  heaven,  fasting,  for  a  good  man's  love  : 
For  I  must  tell  you  friendly  in  your  ear, — 
Sell  when  you  can  ;  you  are  not  for  all  markets. 

A.  T.  iii.  5 

MARRIAGES,  MERCENARY. 

The  hearts  of  old,  gave  hands  ; 
But  our  new  heraldry  is— hands,  not  hearts.  0.  iii.  4 

MARTLET. 

This  guest  of  summer, 
The  temple-hunting  martlet,  does  approve, 
By  his  lov'd  mansionry,  that  the  heaven's  breath, 
Smells  wooingly  here :  no  jutty,  frieze,  buttress, 


MAR       fffcktiftitrua  fHrtinnart|.       MEE 

MARTLET,— continued. 

Nor  coigne  of  'vantage,  but  this  bird  hath  made 

His  pendent  bed,  and  procreant  cradle  :  Where  they 

Most  breed  and  haunt,  I  have  observ'd  the  air 

Is  delicate.  M.  \.  C. 

The  martlet 

Builds  in  the  weather  on  the  outward  wall, 
Even  in  the  force  and  road  of  casualty.  M.  V.  ii.  9. 

MASKED  LADIES. 

Fair  ladies,  mask'd,  are  roses  in  their  bud : 

Dismask'd,  their  damask  sweet  commixture  shown, 

Are  angels  veiling  clouds,  or  roses  blown.  L.  L.  v.  2. 

MATURITY. 

Mellow'd  by  the  stealing  hours  of  time.  R.  in.  iii.  7. 

MEALS. 

Unquiet  meals  make  ill  digestions.  C.  E.  v.  1. 

MEANING. 

Take  our  good  meaning ;  for  our  judgment  sits 

Five  times  in  that,  ere  once  in  our  five  wits.  R.  J.  i.  4. 

MEDDLER. 

'Tis  dangerous,  when  the  baser  nature  comes 

Between  the  pass  and  fell  incensed  points 

Of  mighty  opposites.  H.  v.  2. 

Thou  wretched,  rash,  intruding  fool ;  farewell ! 

I  took  thee  for  thy  better ;  take  thy  fortune : 

Thou  fmd'st,  to  be  too  busy,  is  some  danger.  H.  iii.  4. 

Why,  the  devil,  came  you  between  us  ?  I  was  hurt  undei 
your  arm.  R.  J.  iii.  1. 

MEDIATOR. 

I  was  hardly  moved  to  come  to  thee ;  but  being  assured 
none  but  myself  could  move  thee,  I  have  been  blown  out 
of  your  gates  with  sighs  ;  and  conjure  thee  to  pardon  Rome, 
and  thy  petitionary  countrymen.  C.  v.  2. 

MEDITATION. 

Measuring  his  affections  by  my  own, 

That  most  are  busied  when  they're  most  alone.      R.  J.  i.  1. 

MEEKNESS. 

'Beseech  your  majesty, 
Forbear  sharp  speeches  to  her :  she's  a  lady 
So  tender  of  rebukes,  that  words  are  strokes, 
And  strokes  death  to  her.  dym.  iii.  5 

MEETING. 

Here  is  like  to  be  a  great  presence  of  worthies.    L.  L.  v.  2 

229  20 


MEL       ffaivrsrnrinK  iirlicEitrir.       MEL 


MELANCHOLY  (Sec  also  DESPONDENCY,  MADNESS). 

Melancholy  is  the  nurse  of  frenzy.  T.  S.  IND.  2. 

Thiek-ey'd  musing,  and  curs'd  melancholy.  H.IV.  FT.  i.  ii.  3 
Besieged  with  sable-coloured  melancholy.  L.  L.  '<.  1 

The  sad  companion,  dull-ey'd  melancholy.  P.  P.  i.  2. 

I  am  wrapp'd  in  dismal  thinkings.  A.  W.  v.  3. 

Chanting  faint  hymns  to  the  cold  fruitless  moon.  M.  N,  i.  1, 

My  cue  is  villanoue  melancholy,  with  a  sigh  like  Tom  o' 
Bedlam.  K.  L.  i.  2 

I  have  of  late  (but  wherefore  I  know  not)  lost  all  my 
mirth,  foregone  all  custom  of  exercises  :  and,  indeed,  it  goes 
so  heavily  with  my  disposition,  that  this  goodly  frame,  the 
earth,  seems  to  me  a  sterile  promontory  ;  this  most  excel- 
lent canopy,  the  air,  look  you,  this  brave  o'erhanging 
firmament,  this  majestical  roof  fretted  with  golden  fire, 
why,  it  appears  no  other  thing  to  me,  than  a  foul  and  pesti- 
lent congregation  of  vapours.  H.  ii.  2. 

Melancholy  as  a  lover's  lute.  H.  IV.  FT.  i.  i.  2. 

Boy,  what  uign  is  it,  when  a  man  of  great  spirit  grows 
melancholy  ?  L.  L.  i.  2. 

We  have  been  up  and  down  to  seek  for  thee  ;  for  we  are 
high  proof  melancholy,  and  would  fain  have  it  beaten  away  : 
Wilt  thou  use  thy  wit?  M.  A.  v.  1. 

I  have  neither  the  scholar's  melancholy,  which  is  emula- 
tion ;  nor  the  musician's,  which  is  fantastical  ;  nor  the 
courtier's,  which  is  proud  ;  nor  the  soldier's,  which  is  am- 
bitious ;  nor  the  lawyer's,  which  is  politic  ;  nor  the  lady's, 
which  is  nice  ;  nor  the  lover's,  which  is  all  these  ;  but  it  is 
a  melancholy  of  mine  own,  compounded  of  many  simples, 
extracted  from  many  objects  :  and,  indeed,  the  sundry  con- 
templation of  my  travels,  in  which  my  often  rumination 
wraps  me,  is  a  most  humorous  sadness.  A.Y.  iv.  1. 

Why,  he  will  look  upon  his  boot,  and  sing  ;  mend  the  ruff, 
and  sing  ;  ask  questions,  and  sing  ;  pick  his  teeth,  and  sing: 
I  knew  a  man  that  had  this  trick  of  melancholy,  sold  a 
goodly  manor  for  a  song.  A.  W.  iii.  2. 

Would  the  fountain  of  your  mind  were  cleai  again,  that 
I  might  water  an  ass  at  it.  T.C.  iii.  3. 

There's  something  in  his  soul, 

O'er  which  his  melancholy  sits  on  brood  ; 

And,  I  do  doubt,  the  hatch,  and  the  disclose, 

Will  be  some  danger.  ff.  iii.  1 

0,  melancholy! 

Who  ever  yet  could  sound  thy  bottom  ?  find 
KM) 


MEL       ijnilusjnarhn  Sirtintuni.      MEB 

MELANCHOLY,— continued. 

The  ooze,  to  show  what  coast  thy  sluggish  crare 

Might  easiest  harbour  in  ?  Gym,  iv.  2 

MEMORY,  THE  STORES  OF  THE  (See  also  REMEMBRANCE). 

This  is  a  gift  that  I  have,  simple,  simple ;  a  foolish  e  xtra- 
vagant  spirit,  full  of  forms,  figures,  shapes,  objects,  ideas, 
apprehensions,  motions,  revolutions :  these  are  begot  in  the 
ventricle  of  memory,  nourished  in  the  womb  of  pia  mater, 
and  delivered  upon  the  mellowing  of  occasion. 

L.  L.  iv.  2. 

MEN,  DESTROYER  OF. 

Cannibally  given.  C.  iv.  5. 

MERCENARY. 

Sir,  for  a  quart  d'ecu  he  will  sell  the  fee-simple  of  his 
salvation,  the  inheritance  of  it ;  and  cut  the  entail  from  ali 
remainders.  A.  W.  iv.  3. 

0,  dishonest  wretch  1 
Wilt  thou  be  made  a  man  out  of  my  vice  1          M.  M.  iii.  1. 

0  fie,  fie,  fie  ! 

Thy  sin's  not  accidental,  but  a  trade.  M.  M,  iii.  1. 

Think'st  thou,  I'll  endanger  my  soul  gratis?        M.  W.  ii. 2. 

MERCHANTMEN. 

Your  mind  is  tossing  on  the  ocean ; 

There,  where  your  argosies  with  portly  sail, 

Like  signiors  and  rich  burghers  of  the  flood, 

Or,  as  it  were,  the  pageants  of  the  sea, — 

Do  overpeer  the  petty  traffickers, 

That  curt'sy  to  them,  do  them  reverence, 

As  they  fly  by  them  with  their  woven  wings.         M.  V.  i.  1 

MERCY. 

Wilt  thou  draw  near  the  nature  of  the  gods  ? 

Draw  near  them  then  in  being  merciful: 

Sweet  mercy  is  nobility's  true  badge.  Tit.  And.  i.  3 

The  quality  of  mercy  is  not  strain'd ; 

It  droppeth,  as  the  gentle  rain  from  heaves, 

Upon  the  place  beneath  :  it  is  twice  bless'd ; 

It  blesseth  him  that  gives,  and  him  that  takes  • 

'Tis  mightiest  in  the  mightiest ;  it  becomes 

The  throned  monarch  better  than  his  crown : 

His  sceptre  shows  the  force  of  temporal  power, 

The  attribute  to  awe  and  majesty, 

Wherein  doth  sit  the  dread  and  fear  of  kings ; 

But  mercy  is  above  this  sceptred  sway, 

It  is  enthroned  in  the  heart  of  kings, 

It  is  an  attribute  to  God  himself; 


MF.R       Ijjflbsjtniriiin  Diriiniianj.       MKB 

ME  RC  Y,— continued. 

And  earthly  pow'r  doth  then  show  likest  God's, 

When  mercy  seasons  justice.  M.  V.  iv.  1. 

Alas !  alas ! 

Why,  all  the  souls  that  are,  were  forfeit  once ; 
And  He  that  might  th'  advantage  best  have  took, 
Found  out  the  remedy:     How  would  you  be, 
If  He,  who  is  the  top  of  judgment,  should 
But  judge  you  as  you  are?     0,  think  on  that; 
And  mercy  then  will  breathe  within  your  lips, 
Like  man  new  made.  M  M.  ii.  2, 

I  am  an  humble  suitor  to  your  virtues ; 
For  pity  is  the  virtue  of  the  law, 
And  none  but  tyrants  use  it  cruelly.  T.  A.  iii.  5 

If  little  faults,  proceeding  on  distemper, 
Shall  not  be  wink'd  at,  how  shall  we  stretch  our  eye, 
When  capital  crimes,  chew'd,  swallow'd,  and  digested, 
Appear  before  us  ?  H.  V.  ii.  2. 

Press  not  a  falling  man  too  far ;  'tis  virtue : 

His  faults  lie  open  to  the  laws ;  let  them, 

Not  you,  correct  him.  H.VIIL  iii. 2. 

Well,  believe  this ; 

No  ceremony  that  to  great  ones  'longs, 
Not  the  king's  crown,  nor  the  deputed  sword, 
The  marshal's  truncheon,  nor  the  judge's  robe, 
Become  them  with  one  half  so  good  a  grace, 
As  mercy  does.  M.  M.  ii.  2. 

Lawful  mercy  is 

Nothing  akin  to  foul  redemption.  M.  M.  ii.  4. 

Though  justice  be  thy  plea,  consider  this : — 
That  in  the  course  of  justice,  none  of  us 
Should  see  salvation :  we  do  pray  for  mercy ; 
And  that  same  prayer  doth  toach  us  all  to  render 
The  deeds  of  mercy.  M.  V.  iv.  I. 

Mercy  is  not  itself  that  oft  looks  so ; 

•        Pardon  is  still  the  nurse  of  second  woe.  M.  M.  ii.  1. 

You  must  not  dare,  for  shame,  to  talk  of  mercy ; 
For  your  own  reasons  turn  into  your  bosoms, 
As  dogs  upon  their  masters,  worrying  them.         H.  V.  ii.  2. 

MERIT. 

There  is  more  owing  her  than  is  paid;  and  more  shaii 
be  paid  her  than  she'll  demand.  A.  W  5.  3. 

You  see,  my  good  wenches,  how  men  of  merit  are  sought 
after,  H.IV.  FT.  n.  ii.  4. 

an 


HER       IjjahspBflrinn  Sirtinnart|.       MES 

MERIT, — continued. 

Thou  art  so  far  before, 
That  swiftest  wing  of  recompense  is  slow 
To  overtake  thee.  M.  i.  4 

— —  DEPENDENT. 

Better  it  is  to  die,  better  to  starve, 

Than  crave  the  hire  which  first  we  do  deserve.          C.  ii.  3 

MERRY  WIVES. 

"Wives  may  be  merry,  and  yet  honest  too.  M.  W.  iv.  2, 

MESSENGER  (See  also  NEwe). 

The  first  bringer  of  unwelcome  news 
Hath  but  a  losing  office  ;  and  his  tongue 
Sounds  ever  after  as  a  sullen  bell, 

Rernember'd  knolling  a  departed  friend.     H.  IV.  PT.  n.  i.  L 
Though  it  be  honest,  it  is  never  good 
To  bring  bad  news :  Give  to  a  gracious  message 
A  host  of  tongues  ;  but  let  ill  tidings  tell 
Themselves,  when  they  be  felt.  A.  C.  ii.  5 

Here  is  a  dear  and  true  industrious  friend, 
Sir  Walter  Blount,  new  lighted  from  his  horse, 
Stain'd  with  the  variation  of  each  soil 
Betwixt  that  Holmedon,  and  this  seat  of  ours  ; 
And  he  hath  brought  us  smooth  and  welcome  news. 

H.  IV.  PT.  i.  i.  1 

I  have  not  seen 

So  likely  an  ambassador  of  love  ; 
A  day  in  April  never  came  so  sweet, 
To  show  how  costly  summer  was  at  hand, 
As  this  fore-spurrer  comes  before  his  lord.  M.  V.  ii.  9. 

Be  thou  as  lightning  in  the  eyes  of  France  ; 
For  ere  thou  canst  report,  I  will  be  there  ; 
The  thunder  of  my  cannon  shall  be  heard.  K.  J.  i.  1 

Why,  he  is  dead. 

See  what  a  ready  tongue  suspicion  hath  1 
He,  that  but  fears  the  thing  be  would  not  know, 
Hath,  by  instinct,  knowledge  from  others'  eyes. 
That  which  he  fear'd  is  chanc'd.     Yet  speak,  Morton, 
Tell  thou  thy  earl,  his  divination  lies ;     . 
And  I  will  take  it  as  a  sweet  disgrace ; 
And  make  thee  rich  for  doing  me  much  wrong. 

H.  IV.  PT  u.  L  1 
How  doth  my  son,  and  brother  ? 
Thou  tremblest,  and  the  whiteness  in  thy  cheek 
Is  apter  than  thy  tongue  to  tell  thy  errand. 
Even  such  a  man,  BO  faint,  so  spiritless, 

233  V 


MES      $ijak?sjunrio  Dutinnartj.       MIO 

MESSENGER,— continued. 

So  dull,  so  dead  in  look,  BO  woo-begone, 

Drew  Priam's  curtain  in  the  dead  of  night, 

And  would  have  told  him,  half  his  Troy  was  burn'd  ; 

But  Priam  found  the  fire,  ere  ho  his  tongue, 

And  I  my  Percy's  death,  ere  thou  report'st  it. 

This  thou  would'st  say, — Your  son  did  thus,  and  thus  ; 

Tour  brother  thus  ;  so  fought  the  noble  Douglas ; 

Stopping  my  greedy  ear  with  their  bold  deeds ; 

But  in  the  end,  to  stop  mine  ear  indeed, 

Thou  hast  a  sigh  to  blow  away  this  praise, 

Ending  with — brother,  son,  and  all  are  dead. 

H.  IF.  PT.  n.  i.  I 

Yea,  this  man's  brow,  like  to  a  title  leaf, 
Foretells  the  nature  of  a  tragic  volume  ; 
So  looks  the  strong,  whereon  the  imperial  flood 
Hath  left  a  witness'd  usurpation. 
Say,  Morton,  didst  thou  come  from  Shrewsbury  ? 

H.  IV.  PT.  ii.  i.  1 

Pr'ythee,  say  on ; 

The  setting  of  thine  eye,  and  cheek,  proclaim 
A  matter  from  thee  ;  and  a  birth,  indeed, 
Which  throes  thee  much  to  yield.  T.  ii.  1. 

If  thou  speak'st  false, 
Upon  the  next  tree  shalt  thou  hang  alive, 
Till  famine  cling  thee ;  if  thy  speech  be  sooth, 
I  care  not  if  thou  dost  for  me  as  much.  M.  v.  5 

MIGHTY  DEAD  (See  also  LIFE,  DEATH,  MAN,  FALLEN  GREATNESS) 
Heio  none  but  soldiers,  and  Rome's  servitor;?, 
Repose  in  fame.  Tit.  And.  i.  2. 

ANTONY. 

His  legs  bestrid  the  icean :  his  rear'd  arm 

Crested  the  world ;  his  voice  was  propertied 

As  all  the  tuned  spheres,  and  that  to  friends  ; 

But  when  he  meant  to  quail  and  shake  the  orb, 

He  was  as  rattling  thunder.     For  his  bounty, 

There  was  no  winter  in't.  A.  0.  v.  2. 

In  his  livery 

Walk'd  crowns  and  crownets;  realms  and  islands  were 
As  plates  dropp'd  from  his  pockets.  A.C.  v.  2, 

The  death  of  Antony 
is  not  a  single  doom  ;  in  the  name  lay 

A  moiety  of  the  world.  jLC.  T.  1 

/ 

DUKE  OP  BEDFORD. 


Bat  yet,  betorc  we  go,  let's  not  forget 

fti 


MIG        ?jj[tkf5pmtnn  J)irtionnn|.        MIG 

MIGHTY  DEAD,— continued. 

The  noble  Duke  of  Bedford,  late  deceas'd, 

But  see  his  ex_^uies  fulfill'd  in  Rouen; 

A  braver  soldier  never  couched  lance, 

A  gentler  heart  did  never  sway  in  court : 

But  kings  and  mightiest  potentates  must  die : 

For  that's  the  end  of  human  misery.  H.  VI.  PT.  I.  iii.  2 


BRUTUS. 


Free  from  the  bondage  you  are  in,  Messala ; 

The  conquerors  can  but  make  a  fire  of  him ; 

For  Brutus  only  overcame  himself, 

And  no  man  else  hath  honour  by  his  death.  /.  C.  v.  5. 

According  to  his  virtue  let  us  use  him, 

With  all  respect  and  rites  of  burial. 

Within  my  tent  his  bone?  to-night  shall  He, 

Most  like  a  soldier,  order'd  honourably.  J.C.  v.  4. 

CORIOLANUS. 

Bear  from  hence  his  body, 
And  mourn  you  for  him ;  let  him  be  regarded 
As  the  noblest  corse,  that  ever  herald 
Did  follow  to  his  urn.  (7.  r.  5. 


JULIUS  CAESAR. 


0,  pardon  me,  thou  bleeding  piece  of  earth, 

That  I  am  meek  and  gentle  with  these  butchers  I 

Thou  art  the  ruins  of  the  noblest  man, 

That  ever  lived  in  the  tide  of  times. 

Woe  to  the  hand  that  shed  this  costly  blood ! 

Over  thy  wounds  now  do  I  prophecy, — 

Which,  like  dumb  mouths,  do  ope  their  ruby  lips, 

To  beg  the  voice  and  utterance  of  my  tongue  ! 

A  curse  shall  light  upon  the  limbs  of  men; 

Domestic  fury,  and  fierce  civil  strife, 

Shall  cumber  all  the  parts  of  Italy ; 

Blood  and  destruction  shall  be  so  in  use, 

And  dreadful  objects  so  familiar, 

That  mothers  shall  but  smile,  when  they  behold 

Their  infants  quarter'd  by  the  hands  of  war : 

All  pity  chok'd  with  custom  of  fell  deeds : 

And  Caesar's  spirit,  raging  for  revenge, 

With  At«  by  his  side,  conic  hot  from  hell, 

Shall  in  these  confine?,  with  a  monarch's  voice, 

Cry  Havoc,  and  lot  slip  the  dogs  of  war.  J  C.  f»5.  1 


-SALISBURY. 


And,  that  hereafter  ages  may  behold 
What  ruin  happen'd  in  revenge  of  him, 
33* 


MIG        f|'i'k*if*ifiit  Dutiottnnj.        MIB 

MIGHTY  DEAD,— continued. 

Within  their  chiefest  temple  I'll  erect 

A  tomb,  wherein  his  corpse  shall  be  interr'd. 

H.  VI.  FT.  i.  ii.  2. 

MIND. 

When  the  mind's  free  the  body's  delicate.  K.  L.  iii.  4. 

MIRACLES. 

It  must  be  so :  for  miracles  are  ceas'd ; 

And  therefore  we  must  needs  admit  the  means 

How  things  are  perfected.  H.  V.  i.  1. 

Great  floods  have  flown 

From  simple  sources ;  and  great  seas  have  dried, 
While  miracles  have  by  the  greatest  been  denied. 

A.W.ii.l. 

MIRTH. 

Awake  the  pert  and  nimble  spirit  of  mirth  ; 
Turn  melancholy  forth  to  funerals, 

The  pale  companion  is  not  for  our  pomp.  N.  N.  i.  1. 

Hostess,  clap  to  the  doors  ;  watch  to-night,  pray  to-mor- 
row.— Gallants,  lads,  boys,  hearts  of  gold,  all  the  titles  of 
food  fellowship  come  to  you !     What,  shall  we  be  merry  T 
hall  we  have  a  play  extempore  ?  H.  IV.  PT.  i.  ii.  4. 

See,  your  guests  approach : 
Address  yourself  to  entertain  them  sprightly, 
And  let's  be  red  with  mirth.  W.T.  iv  3 

Frame  your  mind  to  mirth  and  merriment, 
Which  bars  a  thousand  harms,  and  lengthens  life. 

T.  S.  IND.  2. 
A  merrier  man, 

Within  the  limit  of  becoming  mirth, 

I  never  spent  an  hour's  talk  withal.  L.  L.  ii.  1. 

And  then  the  old  quire  hold  their  lips,  and  loffe ; 
And  waxen  in  their  mirth,  and  neeze,  and  swear 
A  merrier  hour  was  never  wasted  there.  M.  N.  ii.  1. 

Jog  on,  jog  on,  the  foot-path  way 

And  merrily  hent  the  stile-a, 
A  merry  heart  goes  all  the  day, 

Your  sad  tires  in  a  mile-a.  W.T.  iv.  5 

He  makes  a  July's  day  short  as  December ; 
And,  with  his  varying  childness,  cures  in  me 
Thoughts  that  would  thick  my  blood.  W.T.  i.  2. 

From  the  crown  of  his  head  to  the  sole  of  hie  foot,  he  is 
all  mirth ;  he  hath  twice  or  thrice  cut  Cupid's  bow-string, 
and  the  little  hangman  dare  not  shoot  at  him :  he  hath  « 


MIR        Itiabsprariaii  £iitioaart|.        MIS 

MIRTH,— continued. 

heart  as  sound  as  a  bell,  and  his  tongue  is  the  clay  per ;  for 
what  his  heart  thinks,  his  tongue  speaks.  M.  A.  iii.  2. 

Let  me  play  the  fool : 

With  mirth  and  laughter  let  old  wrinkles  come ; 
And  let  my  liver  rather  heat  with  wine, 
Than  my  heart  cool  with  mortifying  groans.  M.  V.  i.  1. 

I  would  entreat  you  rather  to  put  on 
Your  boldest  suit  of  mirth,  for  we  have  friends 
That  purpose  merriment.  M.  V.  ii.  2. 

Had  she  beeu  light  like  you, 
Of  such  a  merry,  nimble,  stirrincr  spirit, 
She  might  have  been  a  grandn;      re  she  died  ; 
And  so  may  you :  for  a  light  licart  lives  long.      L.  L.  v.  2. 
Be  large  in  mirth ;  anon,  we'll  drink  a  measure 
The  table  round.  M.  iii.  4. 

MISANTHROPY. 

I  am  misanthropes,  and  hate  mankind, 

For  thy  part,  I  do  wish  thou  wert  a  dog, 

That  I  might  love  thee  something.  T.  A.  iv.  3. 

Tell  Athens,  in  the  sequence  of  degree, 

From  high  to  low  throughout,  that  whoso  please 

To  stop  affliction,  let  him  take  his  haste, 

Come  hither,  ere  my  tree  hath  felt  the  axe, 

And  hang  himself.  T.  A.  v.  2, 

MISCHIEF. 

0  mischief  strangely  thwarting  I  M.A.  iii.  2 
As  prone  to  mischief,  as  able  to  perform  it.         H.  VIII.  i.  1 

0  mischief!  thou  art  swift 
To  enter  in  the  thoughts  of  desperate  men  1  R.  J.  v.  1 

Ha  !  what,  so  rank  ?     Ah,  ha ! 

There's  mischief  in  this  man.  H.  VIII.  i.  2. 

0,  this  is  full  of  pity !— Sir,  it  calls, 

1  fear,  too  many  curses  on  their  heads, 

That  were  the  authors.  H.  VIII.  ii.  1. 

MISER,  SICK. 

Having  no  other  pleasure  of  his  gain 

But  torment,  that  it  cannot  ease  his  pain.  Poems. 

I  can  compare  our  rich  misers  to  nothing  so  fitly  as  to  a 
Whale  ;  that  plays  and  tumbles,  driving  the  poor  frj  before 
him,  and  at  last  devours  them  all  at  a  mouthful  Such 
whales  I  have  heard  of  on  land,  who  never  leave  gaping, 
till  they  have  swallowed  Tip  a  whole  parish,  church,  steeple 
bells,  and  all.  P.  P.  ii.  1, 

237 


MIS        $jfak*0juiinan  fiittinnattj.        MOB 

MISERY. 

Misery  acquaints  a  man  with  strange  bed-fellows.     T.  ii.  2. 
Misery  makes  sport  to  mock  itself.  R,  II.  ii.  1. 

MISERY,  APPEAL  pp. 

O,  let  those  cities,  that  of  Plenty's  cup 

And  her  prosperities  so  largely  taste, 

With  their  superfluous  riots,  hear  these  tears  !      P.  P.  i.  4. 

MISFORTUNE. 

My  stars  shine  darkly  over  me.  T.  N.  ii.  I. 

I   am  now,  Sir,  muddied  in  fortune's  moat,  and  smell 
somewhat  strong  of  her  strong  displeasure.  A.  W.  v.  2. 

A  most  poor  man,  made  tame  by  fortune's  blows  ; 
Who,  by  the  art  of  known  and  feeling  sorrows, 
Am  pregnant  to  good  pity.  K.  L,  iv.  6. 

When  we  were  happy,  we  had  other  names.          K,  J.  v.  4. 

— SOMETIMES  BRINGS  CONTENTMENT. 

My  long  sickness 

Of  health  and  living,  now  begins  to  mend, 
And  nothing  brings  me  all  things.  T.A.  v.  2. 

MISNOMER. 

Benefactors  ?  Well ;  what  benefactors  are  they  ?  are  they 
not  malefactors  ?  M.  M.  ii.  1. 

MISRULE. 

Beaten  for  loyalty, 
Excited  me  to  treason.  Gym.  v.  6 

MISTAKE. 

Then  my  dial  goes  not  true  ;  I  took  this  lark  for  a  bunting 

A.  W.  ii.  5 

What  a  thrice  double  ass 
Was  I,  to  take  this  drunkard  for  a  god, 
And  worship  this  dull  fool !  T.  v.  1. 

MISTRUST. 

I  hold  it  cowardice. 

To  rest  mistrustful,  where  a  ncble  heart 
Hath  pawu'd  an  open  hand  in  sign  of  love. 

H.  VI.  FT.  HI.  iv.  2. 

40B  (See  also  COMMOTION,  POPULARITY.) 

Here  come  the  clusters.  C.  iv.  6, 

The  mutable,  rank-scented  many.  C.  Hi.  1 

There's  a  trim  ranblo  lot  in  ;  Are  all  these 
Your  faithful  friends  <>'  the  subwbs?  11.YIII.  v.  3 


MOB       £|ftkiif*ififin  Bittinnarij.       MOB 

MOB, — continued. 

They  threw  their  caps 

As  they  would  hang  them  on  the  horns  o'  the  moon, 
Shouting  their  emulation.  C.  L  L 

He  that  will  give  good  words  to  thee,  will  flatter 

Beneath  abhorring.     What  would  you  have,  you  curs, 

That  like  nor  peace,  nor  war  ?     The  one  affrights  you, 

The  other  makes  you  proud.     He  that  trusts  you, 

Where  he  should  find  you  lions,  finds  you  hares ; 

Where  foxes,  geese  :  You  are  no  surer,  no, 

Than  is  the  coal  of  fire  upon  the  ice, 

Or  hailstone  in  the  sun.     Your  virtue  is, 

To  make  him  worthy,  whose  offence  subdues  him, 

And  curse  that  justice  did  it.     Who  deserves  greatness, 

Deserves  your  hate ;  and  your  affections  are 

A  sick  man's  appetite,  who  desires  most  that 

Which  would  increase  his  evil.     He  that  depends 

Upon  your  favours,  swims  with  fins  of.  lead, 

And  hews  down  oaks  with  rushes.     Hang  ye !    Trust  ye  ? 

With  every  minute  you  do  change  a  mind ; 

And  call  him  noble,  that  was  now  your  hate ; 

Him  vile,  that  was  your  garland.  (7.  i.  1. 

You  are  they 

That  made  the  air  unwholesome,  when  you  cast 
Your  stinking,  greasy  caps,  in  hooting  at 
Coriolanus'  exile.  C.  iv.  6. 

What  work's,  my  countrymen,  in  hand  ?  Where  go  you 
With  bats  and  clubs  ?  The  matter  ?  Speak,  I  pray  you. 

C.i.  1 

You  common  cry  of  curs  !  whose  breath  I  hate 
As  reek  o'  the  rotten  fens ;  whose  love  I  prize 
As  the  dead  carcasses  of  unburied  men 
That  do  corrupt  my  air.  C.  iii.  3 

Mechanic  slaves, 

With  greasy  aprons,  rules,  and  hammers,  shall 
Uplift  us  to  the  view  ;  in  their  thick  breaths, 
Rank  of  gross  diet,  shall  we  be  enclouded, 
And  forc'd  to  drink  their  vapour.  A.C.  v.  2 

The  fool  multitude,  that  choose  by  show, 
Not  learning  more  than  the  fond  eye  doth  teach ; 
Which  prize  not  to  the  interior,  but,  like  the  martlet, 
Builds  in  the  weather  on  the  outward  wall, 
Even  in  the  force  and  road  of  casualty.  M.  V.  ii.  9 

The  rabble  should  have  first  unroof  d  the  city, 
Ere  so  prevail'd  with  me :  it  will  in  tim« 


MOB       fjtifctiytitili  Iirtiaaari{.       MOO 

MOB, — continued. 

Win  upon  power,  and  throw  forth  greater  monies 

For  insurrection's  arguing.  (7.  i.  1 

The  beast 
With  many  heads  butts  me  away.  J.  iv.  1 

You  have  made  good  work, 

You,  and  your  apron-men.  0.  iv.  I 

Hence  ;  home,  you  idle  creatures,  get  you  home: 
Is  this  a  holiday  ?  What  1  know  you  not, 
Being  mechanical,  you  ought  not  walk, 
Upon  a  labouring  day,  without  the  sign 
Oi  your  profession  ?  Speak,  what  trade  art  thou  ? 
I  will  not  choose  what  many  men  desire, 
Because  I  will  not  jump  with  common  spirits, 
And  rank  me  with  the  barbarous  multitudes.         M.  V.  ii.  f 
Cats,  that  can  judge  as  fitly  of  his  worth, 
As  I  can  of  those  mysteries  which  heaven 
Will  not  have  earth  to  know .  (7.  iv.  I 

They  said  they  were  an  hungry,  sigh'd  forth  proverbs  ; 
That,  hunger  broke  stone  walls ;  that,  dogs  must  eat ; 
That,  meat  was  made  for  mouths  ;  that,  the  gods  sent  not 
Corn  for  the  rich  men  only : — With  these  shreds 
They  vented  their  complainings.  C.  i.  1 

Whose  rage  doth  rend 
Like  interrupted  waters,  and  o'erbear 
What  they  are  us'd  to  bear.  C.  iii.  1 

The  shouting  varletry.  A.C.  v.  2 

This  inundation  of  mistemper'd  humour.  K.  J.  v.  L 

.  —  LEADER. 

The  horn  and  noise  o'  the  monsters.  (7.  iii.  1. 

The  tongues  o'  the  common  mouth.  C.  iii.  1. 

The  herdsman  of  the  beastly  plebeians.  C.  ii.  1. 

MOCKERY. 

By  heaven,  all  dry-beaten  with  pure  scon7.  L.  L.  v.  2, 

But  who  dare  tell  her  so  ?     If  I  should  speak, 

She'd  mock  me  into  air ;  0,  she  would  laugh  me 

Out  of  myself,  press  me  to  death  with  wit. 

Therefore  let  Benedick,  like  cover'd  fire, 

Consume  away  in  sighs,  waste  inwardly : 

It  were  a  better  death  than  die  with  mocks ; 

Which  is  as  bad  as  die  with  tickling.  M.  A.  iii.  1 

Never  did  mockers  waste  more  idle  breath.          M.  N.  iii.  2 

IIow  my  achievements  mock  me.  T.  C.  iv.  2 

24U 


MOO       Ijiaknjuflriaii  Dirtinnarij.       MOD 


MOCB'ERY,-  continued. 

A  pestilence  on  him  !  —  now  will  he  be  mocking.     T.  C.  iv.  2 

To  mock  the  expectation  :f  the  world.       H.  IV.  PT.  n.  v.  2. 

They  do  it  but  in  mocking  merriment  ; 

And  mock  for  mock  is  only  my  intent.  L.  L.  v.'2 

--  SOLEMN. 

0,  sucL  a  deed 

As  from  the  body  of  contraction  plucks 
The  very  soul  ;  and  swee/  -iligion  makes 
A  rhapsody  of  words.  H.  iii.  4, 

MODERATION. 

Let's  teach  ourselves  that  honourable  stop, 

Not  to  out-sport  discretion.  0.  ii.  3. 

For  aught  I  see,  they  are  as  sic'k,  that  surfeit  with  too 
much,  as  they  that  starve  with  nothing  ;  it  is  no  mean  hap- 
piness, therefore,  to  bj  seated  in  the  mean  ;  superfluity 
comes  sooner  by  white  hairs,  but  competency  lives  longer. 

M.  r.  i.  a 

What's  amiss, 

May  it  be  gently  heard  :  When  we  debate 
Our  trivial  difference  loud,  we  do  commit 
Murder  in  healing  wounds  :  Thou,  noble  partner, 
(The  rather,  for  I  earnestly  beseech,) 
Touch  you  the  sourest  points  with  sweetest  terms, 
Nor  curstness  grow  to  the  matter.  A.  C.  ii.  2 

MODESTY. 

It  is  the  witness  still  of  excellency, 

To  put  a  strange  face  on  his  own  perfection.        M.  A.  ii.  3 

Bashful  sincerity  and  comely  love.  M.  A.  iv.  1. 

Can  it  be, 

That  modesty  may  more  betray  our  sense 
Than  woman's  kghtness  t    Having  waste  ground  enough, 
Shall  we  desire  V>  raze  the  sanctuary, 
And  pitch  our  evils  there  T  M,  M.  ii.  2. 

Too  modes*  are  you  ; 

More  cruel  to  your  good  report,  thai  grateful 
To  us  that  give  you  truly.  C.  i.  9. 


ITS  INFLUENCE. 


I  peneive  in  you  so  excellent  a  touch  of  modesty,  that 

yciu  will  not  extort  from  me  what  I  am  willing  to  keep  in  ; 

herefore  it  charges  me  in  manners  the  rather  to  expresf 

myself.  T.N.u.l 


MON      IjjnkffljimiaE  iirtinnnnj.       MOO 


MONEY. 

For  they  say,  if  money  go  before,  all  ways  do  lie  open. 

M.  W.  ii.  2. 
Money  is  a  good  soldier,  Sir,  and  will  on.  M  W.  ii.  2 

0  what  a  world  of  vile,  ill-favour*  d  faults, 

Looks  handsome  in  three  hundred  pounds  a  year  1 

M.  W.  iii.  4 
But,  by  the  Lord,  lads,  I  am  glad  you  have  the  money. 

fllIF.pr.l.ii.4, 

Bell,  book,  and  candle,  shall  not  drive  me  back, 
When  gold  and  silver  becks  me  to  come  on.          K.  J.  iii.  1. 
All  gold  and  silver  rather  turn  to  dirt  ! 
As  'tis  no  better  reckon'd  but  of  those 
Who  worship  dirty  gods.  Cym.  iii.  6. 

MONSTER. 

By  this  good  light  this  is  a  very  shallow  monster:  J 
afeard  of  him  ?  —  a  very  weak  monster  :  The  man  in  the 
moon  ?  —  a  most  poor  credulous  monster  :  —  well  drawn  mon- 
ster, in  good  sooth.  T.  ii.  2. 

I  shall  laugh  myself  to  death  at  this  puppy-headed  mon- 
ster 1  A  most  scurvy  monster.  T.  ii.  2. 

--  ATTRACTIVENESS  OF,  IN  ENGLAND. 

Were  I  in  England  now,  (as  once  I  was,)  and  had  but 
this  fish  painted,  not  a  holiday  fool  there  but  would  give  & 
piece  of  silver  :  there  would  this  monster  make  a  man  ;  any 
strange  beast  there  makes  a  man  :  when  they  will  not  give 
a  doit  to  relieve  a  lame  beggar,  they  will  lay  out  ten  to  see 
a  dead  Indian.  T.  ii.  2, 

MOODY. 

I  cannot  hide  what  I  am  :  I  must  be  sad  when  I  have 
cause,  and  smile  at  no  man's  jests  ;  eat  when  I  have  sto- 
mach, and  wait  for  no  man's  leisure  ;  sleep  when  I  am 
drowsy,  and  tend  to  no  nran's  business  ;  laugh  when  I  am 
merry,  and  claw  no  man  in  his  humour.  M.  A.  i.  3. 

1  love  to  cope  him  in  these  sullen  fits, 

For  then  he's  full  of  matter.  A.T.  ii.  I 

MOON. 

0  sovereign  mistress  of  true  melancholy.  A.  C.  iv.  9 

The  moon,  the  governess  of  floods, 
Pale  in  her  anger,  washes  all  the  air, 
That  rheumatic  diseases  do  abound  : 
And,  through  this  distemperature,  we  see 
The  seasons  alter.  M.  N.  ii.  2. 

The  pale-fao'd  moon.  R.  U.iLi 

MS 


MOO       Ijjnlusjinidait  Duttniurij.       MOB 

MOON, — continued. 

How  sweet  the  moonlight  sleeps  upon  this  bank! 

Here  will  we  sit,  and  let  the  sounds  of  music 

Creep  in  our  ears.  M.  V.  T.  1. 

LINGERING. 

Methinks,  how  slow 

This  old  moon  wanes  !  she  lingers  my  deeires, 

Like  to  a  step-dame,  or  a  dowager, 

Long  withering  out  a  young  man's  revenue.  M,  N.  i.  I 

MORNING. 

See,  how  the  morning  opes  her  golden  gates, 
And  takes  her  farewell  of  the  glorious  sun  I 
How  well  resembles  it  the  prince  of  youth, 
Trimm'd  like  a  younker  prancing  to  his  love ! 

H.  VI.  PT.  HI.  ii.  I 
The  busy  day, 
Wak'd  by  the  lark,  hath  rous'd  the  ribald  crows. 

T.  C.  iv.  2, 

The  sun  is  on  the  heaven  ;  and  the  proud  day, 
Attended  with  the  pleasures  of  the  world, 
Is  all  too  wanton.  K.  J.  iii.  3. 

MORTALITY. 

Even  so  must  I  run  on,  and  even  so  stop.  K.J.v     , 

This  muddy  vesture  of  decay.  M.  V.  v 

MOTION. 

Things  in  motion  sooner  catch  the  eye, 
Than  what  not  stirs.  T.  C.  iii  § 

MOURNING. 

'Tis  sweet  and  commendable  in  your  nature,  Hamlet, 

To  give  these  mourning  duties  to  your  father : 

But,  you  must  know,  your  father  lost  a  father ; 

That  father  lost  his  ;  and  the  survivor  bound 

In  filial  obligation,  for  some  term 

Tc  do  obsequious  sorrow :  But  to  perseVere 

In  obstinate  condolement,  is  a  course 

Of  impious  stubbornness  :  'tis  unmanly  grief: 

It  shows  a  will  most  incorrect  to  heaven  : 

A  heart  unfortified,  a  mind  impatient ; 

An  understanding  simple  and  unschool'd : 

For  what  we  know,  must  be,  and  is  as  common 

As  any  the  most  vulgar  thing  to  sense, 

Why  should  we,  in  our  peevish  opposition, 

Take  it  to  heart  ?     Fie  !  'tis  a  fault  to  heaven, 

A  fault  against  the  dead,  a  fault  to  nature, 

To  reasor  most  absurd  ;  whose  common  theme 


MOU       IjjnkBspnrian  iirtinnarij. 

MOURNING,— continued. 

Is  death  of  fathers,  and  who  still  hath  cried. 

From  the  first  corse,  till  he  that  died  to-day, 

"  This  must  be  so."  U.  i.  2 

Tis  not  alone  my  inky  cloak,  good  mother 

Nor  customary  suits  of  solemn  black, 

Nor  windy  suspiration  of  foro'd  breath, 

No,  nor  the  fruitful  river  in  the  eye, 

Nor  the  dejected  'haviour  of  the  visage, 

Together  with  all  forms,  modes,  shows  of  grief, 

That  can  denote  me  truly :  These,  indeed,  seem, 

For  they  are  actions  that  a  man  might  play  : 

But  I  have  that  within,  which  passeth  show  ; 

These,  but  the  trappings  and  the  suit  of  woe.  H.  i.  2 

MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 

To  tear  with  thunder  the  wide  cheeks  o'  the  air, 

And  yet  to  charge  thy  sulphur  with  a  bolt 

That  should  but  rive  an  oak.  C.  v.  3 

MUNIFICENCE. 

The  best  ward  of  mine  honour,  is,  rewarding  my  dependent*. 

L.  L.  in.  I 

MURDER. 

The  great  King  of  kings 
Hath  in  the  table  of  his  law  commanded, 
That  thou  shalt  do  no  murder :  Wilt  thou  then 
Spurn  at  his  edict,  and  fulfil  a  man's  ? 
Take  heed ;  for  he  holds  vengeance  in  his  hand, 
To  hurl  upon  their  heads  that  break  his  law.         R.  III.  i.  4 

There  is  no  sure  foundation  set  on  blood ; 
No  certain  life  achiev'd  by  others'  death.  K.  J.  iv.  2 

Not  afraid  to  kill  him,  having  a  warrant  for  it ;  but  to  b« 
damned  for  killing  him,  from  the  which  no  warrant  can 
defend  me.  R.  III.  i.  4. 

This  is  the  bloodiest  shame, 
The  wildest  savag*ry,  the  vilest  stroke, 
I'hat  ever  wall-eyed  wrath,  or  staring  rage, 
Resented  to  the  tears  of  soft  remorse.  K.  J.  iv.  3 

Thou  sure  and  firm-set  earth, 
near  not  my  steps,  which  way  they  walk,  for  fear 
The  very  stones  prate  of  my  whereabout, 
And  take  the  present  horror  from  the  time, 
Which  now  suits  with  it.  M.  ii.  1 

The  tyrannous  and  bloody  act  is  done  ; 
The  most  arch  deed  of  piteous  massacre 
That  ever  yet  this  land  was  guilty  of 


HUB       Ijjalufljuariflii  Dirtionnnj.       HUB 

MURDER,— cantinued. 

Dighton,  and  Forrest,  whom  I  did  suborn 
To  do  this  piece  of  ruthless  butchery, 
Albeit  thev  were  fiesh'd  villains,  blood  dogs. 
Melting  with  tenderness,  and  mild  compassion, 
Wept  like  two  children,  in  their  death's  sad  story. 

R.  III.  iv.  3. 

Mercy  but  murders,  pardoning  those  that  kill.      R.  J.  iii.  1, 
No  place,  indeed,  should  murder  sanctuarize.  H.  iv.  7. 

Blood  hath  been  shed  ere  now,  i'  the  olden  time, 
Ere  human  statute  purg'd  the  general  weal ; 
Ay,  and  since,  too,  murders  have  been  perform'd 
Too  terrible  for  the  ear ;  the  times  have  been, 
That  when  the  brains  were  out,  the  man  would  die, 
And  there  an  end :  but  now,  they  rise  again, 
With  twenty  mortal  murders  on  their  crowns, 
And  push  us  from  our  stools :  This  is  more  strange 
Than  such  a  murder  is.  M.  iii.  4, 

It  will  have  blood  ;  they  say,  blood  will  have  blood ; 
Stones  have  been  known  to  move,  and  trees  to  speak  ; 
Augures,  and  understood  relations,  have 
By  magot-pies,  and  choughs,  and  rooks,  brought  forth 
The  secret'st  man  of  blood.  M.  iii.  4, 

For  murder,  though  it  have  no  tongue,  will  speak 
With  most  miraculous  organ.  H,  ii.  2 

Who  finds  the  heifer  dead  and  bleeding  fresh, 
And  sees  fast  by  a  butcher  with  an  axe, 
But  will  suspect  'twas  he  that  made  the  slaughter  ? 
Who  finds  the  partridge  in  the  puttock's  nest, 
But  may  imagine  how  the  bird  was  dead, 
Although  the  kite  soar  with  unbloodied  beak, 
Even  so  suspicious  is  this  tragedy.  H.  VI.  PT.  n.  iii.  % 

Wither'd  murder, 

Alarum'd  by  his  sentinel,  the  wolf, 
Whose  howl's  his  watch,  thus,  with  his  stealthy  pace, 
With  Tarquin's  ravishing  strides,  towards  his  design 
Moves  like  a  ghost.  M.  ii. ) 

With  all  great  Neptune's  ocean  wash  this  blood 
Clean  from  my  hand  ?    No ;  this  my  hand  will  rather 
The  multitudinous  seas  incarnadine, 
Making  the  green  one,  red.  M.  ii.  2 

Butchers  and  villains,  bloody  cannibals ! 
How  sweet  a  plant  have  you  untimely  cropp'd ! 
You  have  no  children,  butchers !  if  you  had, 
The  thought  of  them  would  have  stirr'd  up  remorse. 

H.  VI.  PT.  in.  ?.  I 
24ft  a* 


HUB       j&jfflktspmiafl  fiirtinnarij.       AIDE 

MURDER,— continued. 

Murder  most  foul,  as  in  the  best  it  is ; 

But  this  most  foul,  strange,  and  unnatural.  II.  i.  & 

The  bell  invites  me. 
Hear  it  not,  Duncan  ;  for  it  is  a  knell 
That  summons  thee  to  heaven,  or  to  hell.  M.  ii.  1. 

Safe  in  a  ditch  he  bides, 
With  twenty  trenched  gashes  on  his  head  ; 
The  least  a  death  to  nature.  M.  iii.4 

THE  DUKE  OF  CLARENCE. 

Hast  thou  that  holy  feeling  in  thy  soul, 

To  counsel  me  to  make  my  peace  with  God, 

And  art  thou  yet  to  thy  own  soul  so  blind, 

That  thou  wilt  war  with  God,  by  murd'ring  me  ? 

Ah,  sirs,  consider,  he,  that  set  you  on 

To  do  this  deed,  will  hate  you  for  the  deed. 

Not  to  relent,  is  beastly  savage,  devilish. 

Which,  of  you,  if  you  were  a  prince's  son, 

Being  pent  from  liberty,  as  I  am  now, 

If  two  such  murderers  as  yourselves  came  to  you, 

Would  not  entreat  for  life  ? 

My  friend,  I  spy  some  pity  in  thy  looks ; 

0,  if  thine  eye  be  not  a  flatterer, 

Come  thou  on  my  side,  and  entreat  for  me, 

As  you  would  beg,  Avere  you  in  my  distress. 

A  begging  prince  what  beggar  pities  not  ? 

2nd  Murderer. — Look  behind  you,  my  lord. 

1st  Murderer. — Take  that,  and  that.     (Stabbing  him.) 

3.  III.  \,  \ 

• — YOUNG  PRINCES  (WALES  and  YORK). 
0  thus,  quoth  Dighton,  lay  the  gentle  babes,— 
Thus,  thus,  quoth  Forrest,  girdling  one  another 
Within  their  alabaster  innocent  arms  ; 
Their  lips  were  four  red  roses  on  a  stalk, 
Which,  in  their  summer  beauty,  kiss'd  each  other. 
A  book  of  prayers  on  their  pillow  lay ; 
Which,  once,  quoth  Forrest,  almost  chang'd  my  mind  , 
But,  0,  the  devil — there  the  villain  stopp'd 
When  Dighton  thus  told  on, — we  smothered 
The  most  replenished  sweet  work  of  nature, 
That,  from  the  prime  creation,  e'er  she  fram'd. 

a.  in.  IT.  a 

—  RICHARD  THK  SECOND. 

Exton. — From  your  own  mouth,  my  lord,  did  I  this  deed 
Bolingbroke. — They  love  not  poison  that  do  poison  nee<3L 
Nor  do  I  thee ;  though  I  did  wish  him  dead, 
Ml 


ijjnbsjuarinn  iirtinunnj.       MCR 


MURDER,  RICHARD  THE  SECOND,  —  continued. 
I  hate  the  murderer,  love  him  murdered. 
The  guilt  of  conscience  take  thou  for  thy  labour, 
But  neither  my  good  word,  nor  princely  favour  ; 
With  Cain  go  wander  through  the  shade  of  night, 
And  never  shew  thy  head  by  day,  nor  light.        R.IL  v.  6 


PRINCE  ARTHUR. 


Hubert. — Here  is  your  hand  and  seal  for  what  I  did. 

King  /07m.— 0,  when  the  last  account  'twixt  heaven  aud 

earth 

Is  to  be  made,  then  shall  this  hand  and  seal 
Witness  against  us  to  damnation ! 
How  oft  the  sight  of  means  to  do  ill  deeds, 
Makes  deeds  ill  done !     Hadst  not  thou  been  by, 
A  fellow  by  the  hand  of  nature  mark'd, 
Quoted,  and  sign'd,  to  do  a  deed  of  shame, 
This  murder  had  not  come  into  my  mind: 
But,  taking  note  of  thy  abhor'd  aspect, 
Finding  thee  fit  for  bloody  villany, 
Apt,  liable,  to  be  employ'd  in  danger, 
I  faintly  broke  with  thee  of  Arthur's  death ; 
And  thou,  to  be  endeared  to  a  king, 
Made  it  no  conscience  to  destroy  a  prince. 
Hadst  thou  but  shook  thy  head,  or  made  a  paus«, 
When  I  spake  darkly  what  I  purposed  ; 
Or  turn'd  an  eye  of  doubt  upon  my  face, 
As  bid  me  tell  my  tale  in  express  words  ; 
Deep  shame  had  struck  me  dumb,  made  me  break  off, 
And  those  thy  fears  might  have  wrought  fears  in  me  ; 
But  thou  didst  understand  me  by  my  signs, 
And  didst  in  signs  again  parley  with  sin ; 
Yea,  without  stop,  didst  let  thy  heart  consent^ 
And,  consequently,  thy  rude  hand  to  act 
The  deed,  which  both  our  tongues  held  vile  to  name. — 
Out  of  my  sight,  and  never  see  me  more !  K.  J.  IT.  2 


SUSPICION  OF. 

If  thou  didst  but  consent 
To  this  most  cruel  act,  do  but  despair, 
And,  if  thou  want'st  a  cord,  the  smallest  thread 
That  ever  spider  twisted  from  her  womb 
Will  serve  to  strangle  thee  ;  a  rush  will  be 
A  beam  to  hang  thee  on ;  or  would'st  thou  drown  thysolf, 
Put  but  a  little  water  in  a  spoon, 
And  it  shall  be  as  all  the  ocean, 
Enough  to  stifle  such  a  villain  up. — 
I  do  BUBpa3t  thee  very  grievously.  K  J  IT  3. 

Stf 


aus       ^jjabsjicarifltt  iirtinnnrij. 


MUSIC. 

Come,  ho,  and  wake  Diana  with  a  hymn  ; 
With  sweetest  touches  pierce  your  mistress'  ear,     . 
And  draw  her  home  with  music.  M.  V.  r.  1. 

Let  music  sound  while  he  doth  make  his  choice  ; 
Then,  if  he  lose,  he  makes  a  swan-like  end, 
Fading  in  music.     That  the  comparison 
May  stand  more  proper,  my  eye  shall  be  the  stream, 
And  wat'ry  death-bed  for  him  :  He  may  win  ; 
And  what  is  music  then  ?  Then  music  is 
Even  as  the  flourish  when  true  subjects  bow 
To  a  new-crowned  monarch  ;  such  it  is, 
As  are  those  dulcet  sounds  in  break  of  day, 
That  creep  into  the  dreaming  bridegroom's  ear, 
And  summon  him  to  marriage.  M.  V.  iii.  2. 

Come  on  ;  tune  :  If  you  can  penetrate  her  with  your 
fingering,  so  ;  we'll  try  with  tongue  too  :  if  none  will  do, 
let  her  remain  ;  but  I'll  never  give  o'er.  First,  a  very  ex- 
cellent good-conceited  thing  ,  after  a  wonderful  sweet  air, 
with  admirable  rich  words  to  it,  —  and  then  let  her  consider. 

Gym,  ii.  3. 

How  sweet  the  moonlight  sleeps  upon  this  bank  1 
Here  will  we  sit,  and  let  the  sounds  of  music 
Creep  in  our  ears  ;  soft  stillness,  and  the  night, 
Become  the  touches  of  sweet  harmony.  M.  V.  v.  1. 

Sitting  on  a  bank, 

Weeping  against  the  king  my  father's  wreck, 
This  music  crept  by  me  upon  the  waters  ; 
Allaying  both  their  fury  and  my  passion, 
With  its  sweet  air.  T.  i.  2. 

'Tis  good  tho'  music  oft  hath  such  a  charm, 
To  make  bad  good  ;  and  good  provoke  to  harm.  M.  M.  iv.  1. 
And  it  will  discourse  most  eloquent  music.  H.  iii.  2. 

Preposterous  ass  !  that  never  read  so  far, 
To  know  the  cause  why  music  was  ordain'd  1 
Was  it  not  to  refresh  the  mind  of  man, 
After  his  studies,  or  his  usual  pain  ? 
Then  give  me  leave  to  read  philosophy, 
And,  while  I  pause,  serve  in  your  harmony.          T.S.  iii.  i. 
[I'm  never  merry,  when  I  hear  sweet  music.— 
The  reason  is,  your  spirits  are  attentive  : 
For  do  but  note  a  wild  and  wanton  herd, 
Or  race  of  youthful  and  unhandled  colts, 
Fetching  mad  bounds,  bellowing  and  neighing  load, 
Which  is  the  hot  condition  of  their  blood  : 
,f  they  perchance  but  hear  a  trumpet  sound, 

248 


Mrs          iiif'i.ui       tmiflni.       MUS 

MUSIC, — continued. 

Or  anj  air  of  music  touch  their  ears, 

You  shall  perceive  them  make  a  mutual  stand, 

Their  savage  eyes  turn'd  to  a  modest  gaze, 

By  the  sweet  power  of  music  :  Therefore,  the  poet 

Did  fein  that  Orpheus  drew  trees,  stones,  and  floods ; 

Since  nought  so  stockish,  hard,  and  full  of  rage, 

But  music  for  the  time  doth  change  his  nature.     M.  V.  v.  1 

The  man  that  hath  not  music  in  himself, 

Nor  is  not  moved  with  concord  of  sweet  sounds, 

Is  fit  for  treasons,  stratagems,  and  spoils; 

The  motions  of  his  spirit  are  dull  as  night, 

And  his  affections  dark  as  Erebus  : 

Let  no  such  man  be  trusted.  M.  V.  v.  1 

For  Orpheus'  lute  was  stung  with  poets'  sinews, 
Whose  golden  touch  could  soften  steel  and  stones  ; 
Make  tigers  tame,  and  huge  leviathans 
Forsake  unsounded  deeps  to  dance  on  sands.        T.  0.  iii.  2 

If  music  be  the  food  of  love,  play  on, 

Give  me  excess  of  it ;  that,  surfeiting, 

The  appetite  may  sicken,  and  so  die. — 

That  strain  again  ; — it  had  a  dying  fall : 

0,  it  came  o'er  mine  ear  like  the  sweet  south, 

That  breathes  upon  a  bank  of  violets, 

Stealing  and  giving  odour.  T.  N.  i.  1 

Once  I  sat  upon  a  promontory, 
And  heard  a  mermaid,  on  a  dolphin's  back, 
Uttering  such  dulcet  and  harmonious  breath, 
That  the  rude  sea  grew  civil  at  her  song ; 
And  certain  stars  shot  madly  from  their  spheres, 
To  hear  the  sea-maid's  music.  M.  N.  ii.  2. 

Let  there  be  no  noise  made,  my  gentle  friends ; 
Unless  some  dull  and  favourable  hand 
Will  whisper  music  to  my  weary  spirit.    H.  IV.  PT.  n.  iv.  4. 
Then  music,  with  her  silver  sound, 
With  speedy  help  doth  lend  redress.  R.  J.  iv.  5. 

Tax  not  so  bad  a  voice 

To  slander  music  any  more  than  once.  M.  A.  ii.  3. 

But,  masters,  here's  money  for  you :  and  the  general  so 
likes  your  nusic,  that  he  desires  you,  of  all  loves,  to  make 
no  more  noise  with  it.  O.  iii.  1. 

Wilt  thou  have  music  ?  hark !  Apollo  plays, 
And  twenty  caged  nightingales  do  sing.  T.  8.  Im>.  2. 

Give  me  some  music ;  music,  moody  food 
Of  us  that  trade  in  love.    The  music,  ho !  A  C.  ii.  ft* 

249 


MUS       $£nkEspBariatt  Birtinnurq.      MYS 

MUSIC,— continued. 

I  am  advised  to  give  ler  music  o'mornings :  they  say  it 
will  penetrate.  Cym.  h  3 

The  choir, 

With  all  the  choicest  music  of  the  kingdom, 
Together  sung  Te  Deum.  H.  VIII.  iv  1. 

MUSICIAN. 

He  plays  o'  th'  viol-de-gambo.  T.  N.  i  3. 

MUSTERING. 

Call  forth    your  actors   by  the   scroll.     Masters,   spread 
yourselves.  M.  N.  i.  2. 

MUTABILITY. 

How  chances  mock, 
And  changes  fill  the  cup  of  alteration 
With  divers  liquors  I  H.  IV.  FT.  n.  iii.  1 

To  what  base  uses  we  may  roturn,  Horatio !  Why  may 
not  imagination  trace  the  noble  dust  of  Alexander  till  he 
find  it  stopping  a  bung-hole  ?  H.  v.  1 

Imperious  Caesar,  dead,  and  turn'd  to  clay, 
Might  stop  a  hole,  to  keep  the  wind  away : 
0,  that  the  earth,  which  kept  the  world  in  awe, 
Should  patch  a  wall  to  expel  the  winter's  flaw  1          H.  v.  1. 
All  things  that  wo  ordained  festival, 
Turn  from  their  office  to  black  funeral: 
Our  instruments,  to  melancholy  bells ; 
Our  wedding  cheer,  to  a  sad  burial  feast ; 
Our  solemn  hymns,  to  sullen  dirges  change ; 
Our  bridal  flowers  serve  for  a  buried  corse, 
And  all  things  change  them  to  the  contrary.        R.  J.  iv.  5. 
This  world  is  not  for  aye  ;  nor  'tis  not  strange, 
That  even  our  love  should  with  our  fortunes  change ; 
For  'tis  a  question  left  us  yet  to  prove, 
Whether  love  lead  fortune,  or  else  fortune  love.       H.  iii.  2. 
Lord,  we  know  what  we  are,  but  know  not  what  we 
may  be  1  Hi  iv.  5. 

MYSTERIES. 

There  are  more  things  in  heaven  and  earth.  Horatio, 
Than  are  dreamt  of  in  your  philosophy  H.  i.  5. 

Canst  tell  now  an  oyster  makes  his  shell  '  K.  L.  i.  5. 

MYSTERIOUS. 

It  was  not  brought  me,  my  lord,  there's  the  cunning  of 
it ;  I  found  it  thrown  in  at  the  casement  of  my  closet. 

£.£'•  2 

m 


SAI        Ijjaluspiman  Dirhnnnrq. 


N. 

NAIADS. 

You  nymphs,  call'd  Naiads,  of  the  wand'ring  brooks, 
With  your  sedg'd  crowns  and  ever  harmless  looks, 
Leave  your  crisp'd  channels,  and  on  this  green  land 
Answer  your  summons.  T  if.  I., 

NAME. 

Brutus  and  Caesar :  what  should  be  in  that  Caesar  ? 

Why  should  that  name  be  sounded  more  than  yours  ? 

Write  them  together,  yours  is  as  fair  a  name ; 

Sound  them,  it  doth  become  the  mouth  as  well ; 

Weigh  them,  it  is  as  heavy ;  conjure  with  them, 

Brutus  will  start  a  spirit  as  soon  as  Caesar. 

Now  in  the  names  of  all  the  gods  at  once, 

Upon  what  meat  doth  this  our  Caesar  feed, 

That  he  is  grown  so  great.  /.  C.  i.  2 

'Tis  but  thy  name  that  is  my  enemy, — 

Thou  art  thyself,  though  not  a  Montague. 

What's  Montague  ?  it  is  nor  hand,  nor  foot, 

Nor  arm,  nor  face,  nor  any  other  part 

Belonging  to  a  man.     0,  be  some  other  name  I 

What's  in  a  name  ?  that  which  we  call  a  rose, 

By  any  other  name  would  smell  as  sweet.  R.  J.  u.  2. 

I  do  beseech  you, 

(Chiefly,  that  I  might  set  it  in  my  prayers,) 
W hat  is  your  name  ?  21  iii.  1. 

Romeo,  doff  thy  name ; 
And  for  that  name,  which  is  no  part  of  thee, 
Take  all  myself.  R.  J.  ii.  2. 

Go  back ;  the  virtue  of  your  name 
Is  not  here  passable.  C.  v.  2. 

NARRATION,  LONG. 

No  more  yet  of  this  ; 
For  'tis  a  chronicle  of  day  by  day, 
Not  a  relation  for  a  breakfast,  nor 
Befitting  this  first  meeting  21  v.  1. 

NATURE. 

Nature  hath  meal,  and  bran  ;  contempt,  and  grace. 

Cym.  iv.  2, 
One  touch  of  nature  makes  the  whole  world  kin. 

T.  C.  iii.  3 
How  bard  it  is  to  hide  the  sparks  of  nature  1       Cym.  iii  3, 

m 


NAT       |ljalu0jiBarinu  SitHmarq.       NEC 

NATURE,— continued. 

Nature,  what  things  there  are, 
Most  abject  in  regard,  and  dear  in  use ! 
What  things  again  most  dear  in  the  esteem, 
And  poor  in  worth  !  T.C.  iii.  3, 

Labouring  art  can  never  ransom  Nature 

From  her  inaidable  estate.  A.  W.  ii.  1 

NATURAL  PRODUCTIONS. 

Many  for  many  virtues  excellent, 

None  but  for  some,  and  yet  all  different. 

0,  mickle  is  the  powerful  grace,  that  lies 

In  herbs,  plants,  stones,  and  their  true  qualities : 

For  nought  so  vile  that  on  the  earth  doth  live, 

But  to  the  earth  some  special  good  doth  give; 

Nor  aught  so  good,  but,  strain'd  from  that  fair  use, 

Revolts  from  true  birth,  stumbling  on  abuse : 

Virtue  itself  turns  vice,  being  misapplied: 

And  vice  sometime's  by  action  dignified. 

Within  the  infant  rind  of  this  small  flower 

Poison  hath  residence,  and  med'cine  power : 

For  this,  being  smelt,  with  that  part  cheers  each  part; 

Being  tasted,  stays  all  senses  with  the  heart. 

Two  such  opposed  foes  encamp  them  still 

In  man  as  well  as  herbs,  grace,  and  rude  will ; 

And,  where  the  worsev  is  predominant, 

Full  soon  the  canker  death  eats  up  that  plant.        A'.  J.  ii.  3 

KECESSITY.  NEED. 

Necessity's  sharp  pinch.  K.  L.  ii.  4 

Teach  thy  necessity  to  reason  thus  ; 

Th-;re  is  no  virtue  like  necessity.  R.  II.  i.  3. 

Where  is  this  straw,  my  fellow  ? 
The  art  of  our  necessities  is  strange, 
That  can  make  vile  things  precious.  K.  L.  iii.  2 

Necessity  will  make  us  all  forsworn.  L.  L.i.  1, 

0,  reason  not  the  need :  our  basest  beggars 

Are  in  the  poorest  thing  superfluous  : 

Allow  not  nature  more  than  nature  needs, 

Man's  life  is  cheap  as  beast's.  K.  L.  ii.  4 

But,  for  true  need, — 
You  heavens,  give  me  that  patience :  patience  1  need. 

K.  L.  ii  4 

I  am  sworn  brother,  sweet, 
To  grim  Necessity ;  and  he  and  I 
Will  keep  a  league  till  death.  R.  U.  \.  { 

m 


KEG       £jjab0p?arian  Dirtinnnri|. 

NEGLECT  (See  also  DELAY, OPFORTUNITT). 

0,  then,  beware ; 

Those  wounds  heal  ill  that  men  do  give  themselves: 
Omission  to  do  what  is  necessary 
Seals  a  commission  to  a  blank  of  danger  ; 
And  danger,  like  an  ague,  subtly  taints 
Even  then  when  we  sit  idly  in  the  sun.  T.  O.  iii.  3 

0  negligence, 

Fit  for  a  fool  to  fall  by!  H.  FZZ7.  iii.  2. 

And  you  are  now  sailed  into  the  north  of  my  lady*i 
opinion,  where  you  will  hang  like  an  icicle  in  a  Dutchman'! 
beard,  unless  you  do  redeem  it  by  some  laudable  attempt, 
either  of  valour,  or  policy.  T.  N.  iii.  2. 

They  pass'd  by  me 

As  misers  do  by  beggars.  T.C.  iii.  3. 

Oraittance  is  no  quittance.  A,  Y.  iii.  5. 

SEWS  (See  also  MESSENGER). 

Let  me  speak,  to  the  yet  unknowing  world, 
How  these  things  came  about ;  so  shall  you  hear 
Of  carnal,  bloody,  and  unnatural  acts ; 
Of  accidental  judgments,  casual  slaughters  ; 
Of  deaths  put  on  by  cunning,  and  forc'd  cause ; 
And,  in  this  upshot,  purposes  mistook 
FalPn  on  the  inventor's  heads  ;  all  this  can  I 
Truly  deliver.  H.  v.  2. 

But  I  have  words, 

That  should  be  howl'd  out  in  the  desert  air 
Where  hearing  should  not  latch  them.  Jf.  iv.  3. 

And  there  are  twenty  weak  and  wearied  posts, 
Come  from  the  north ;  and,  as  I  came  along, 
I  met,  and  overtook,  a  dozen  captains, 
Bareheaded,  sweating,  knocking  at  the  taverns. 

H.IV.  pT.n.iL 4 

Is  thy  news  good,  or  bad  ?  answer  to  that : 
Say  either,  and  I'll  stay  the  circumstance ; 
Let  me  be  satisfied, — Is't  good  or  bad  ?  R.  J.  ii.  5. 

Old  men,  and  beldams,  in  the  streets 
Do  prophesy  upon  it  dangerously ; 
Young  Arthur's  death  is  common  in  their  mouths : 
And  when  they  talk  of  him,  they  shake  their  heads, 
And  whisper  one  another  in  the  ear : 
And  he  that  speaks,  doth  gripe  the  hearer's  wrist ; 
Whilst  he  that  hears,  makes  fearful  action. 
With  wrinkled  brows,  with  nods,  with  rolling  eyes. 
I  saw  a  smith  stand  with  his  hammer,  thus, 


NEW      Ijjnkrspnrinn  Dirtinnartj. 

NEWS,— -continued, 

The  whilst  the  iron  did  on  the  anvil  cool, 
With  open  mouth  swallowing  a  tailor'*  news; 
Who,  with  his  shears  and  measure  in  his  hand, 
Standing  on  slippers,  (which  his  nimble  haste 
Had  falsely  thrust  upon  contrary  feet,) 
Told  of  a  many  thousand  warlike  French, 
That  were  embattalled  and  rank'd  in  Kent; 
Another  lean  unwash'd  artificer 

Cuts  off  his  tale,  and  talks  of  Arthur's  death.        K.J.  iv  » 

Tell  him,  there's  a  post  come  from  my  master,  with  hit 

horn  full  of  news.  M.  V.  v.  1 

Ere  I  was  risen  from  the  place  that  show'd 

My  duty  kneeling,  came  there  a  reeking  post, 

Stew'd  in  his  haste,  half  breathless,  panting  forth 

From  Goneril,  his  mistress,  salutations  ; 

Deliver' d  letters,  spite  of  intermission, 

Which  presently  they  read.  K.  L.  ii.  4 

After  him,  came  spurring  hard, 
A  gentleman  almost  forspent  with  speed  ; 
That  stopp'd  by  me  to  breathe  his  bloodied  horse ; 
He  ask'd  the  way  to  Chester,  and  of  him 
I  did  demand  what  news  from  Shrewsbury. 
He  told  me,  that  rebellion  had  bad  luck, 
And  that  young  Harry  Percy's  spur  was  cold ; 
With  that,  he  gave  his  able  horse  the  head, 
And,  bending  forward,  struck  his  armed  heels 
Against  the  panting  sides  of  his  poor  jade, 
Up  to  the  rowel  head  ;  and,  starting  so, 
He  seem'd  in  running  to  devour  the  way, 
Staying  no  further  question.  H.  IV.  PT.  H.  i.  1. 

Seek  him,  Titinius ;  whilst  I  go  to  meet 
The  noble  Brutus,  thrusting  this  report 
Into  his  ears :  I  may  say,  thrusting  it ; 
For  piercing  steel,  and  darts  envenomed, 
Shall  be  as  welcome  to  the  ears  of  Brutus, 
As  tidings  of  this  sight.  J.C.v.'d 

Tedious  it  were  to  tell,  and  harsh  to  hear.  T.  S.  iii.  2. 

My  ears  are  stopp'd,  and  cannot  hear  good  news, 
So  much  of  bad  already  hath  possessed  them.      T.  G.  iii.  1. 

I  drown'd  these  news  in  tears.  H.  VI.  PT.  in.  ii.  1. 

News,  fitted  to  the  night: 

Black,  fearful,  comfortless,  and  horrible.  K.  J.  v.  6 

Master,  master!   news,  old  news,  and  such  news  as  you 
heard  of.  T,  S.  iii.  2, 

m 


|>}ilrtsftBriii  Dhttnuartj.      NEW 

NEWS,— continued. 

Ram  thou  thy  fruitful  tidings  in  mine  ears, 
That  long  time  have  been  barren.  A.  C.  ii.  5 

Such  a  deal  of  wonder  is  broken  out  within  this  hour, 
that  the  ballad-makers  cannot  be  able  to  express  it. 

W.T.  v.2, 

Let  not  your  ears  despise  my  tongue  for  ev«r, 

Which  shall  possess  them  with  the  heaviest  sound, 

That  ever  yet  they  heard.  M.  iv.  3. 

My  heart  hath  one  poor  string  to  stay  it  by, 

Which  holds  but  till  thy  news  be  uttered.  K.  J.  v.  7. 

There's  villainous  news  abroad.  H.IV.  PT.  i.  ii.4. 

O,  slaves,  I  can  tell  you  news ;  news,  you  rascals.       C.  iv.  5. 

There  might  you  have  beheld  one  joy  crown  another; 
BO,  and  in  such  manner,  that,  it  seemed,  sorrow  wept  to 
take  leave  of  them ;  for  their  joy  waded  in  tears.  There 
was  casting  up  of  eyes,  holding  up  of  hands ;  with  counte- 
nance of  such  distraction,  that  they  were  to  be  known  by 
garment,  not  by  favour.  W.T.  v.2. 

Thy  father's  beard  is  turned  white  with  the  news ;  you 
may  buy  land  now  as  cheap  as  stinking  mackarel. 

H.  IV.  rr.  i.  ii.  4, 
Pr'ythee,  friend, 

Pour  out  the  pack  of  matter  to  mine  ear, 
The  good  and  bad  together.  A.C.  ii.  5. 

Where  have  you  lurk'd,  that  you  make  doubt  of  it  ?     C.  v.  4. 
What  news,  Lord  Bardolph  ?  every  minute  now 
Should  be  the  father  of  some  stratagem  ; 
The  times  are  wild.  H.  IV.  PT.  ii.  i.  1. 

Like  an  old  tale  still ;  which  will  have  matter  to  rehearse, 
though  credit  be  asleep,  and  not  an  ear  open.  W.  T.  v.  2. 

How  goes  it  now,  Sir ;  this  news,  which  is  called  true, 
is  so  like  an  old  tale,  that  the  verity  of  it  is  in  strong 
suspicion.  W.  T.  v.  2. 

The  nature  of  bad  news  infects  the  teller.  A.  C.  i.  2 

With  news  the  time's  with  labour ;  and  throes  forth 
Each  minute,  some.  A.  C.  iii.  7- 

Thy  letters  have  transported  me  beyond 
This  ignorant  present,  and  I  feel  now 

The  future  in  the  instant.  M.  i.  5. 

What  a  haste  looks  through  his  eyes  ! 
So  should  he  look, 

That  seems  tc  speak  things  strange.  M.\.  2, 

Ml 


NEW       #Jjaltt8{uanaE  Dutioiiaq.        NIG 

NEWS,  STALE, 

There  needs  no  ghost,  my  lord,  come  from  the  grave, 

lo  teil  us  this.  H,  i.  5. 

NEW  GOVERNOR. 

Whether  it  be  the  fault  and  glimpse  of  newness  ; 

Or  whether  that  the  body  public  be 

A  horse  whereon  the  governor  doth  ride, 

Who,  newly  in  the  seat,  that  it  may  know 

He  can  command,  let's  it  straight  feel  the  spur : 

Whether  the  tyranny  be  in  his  place, 

Or  in  his  eminence  that  fills  it  up, 

I  stagger  in :— But  this  new  governor 

Awakes  me  all  the  enrolled  penalties, 

Which  have,  like  unscour'd  armour,  hung  by  the  wall 

So  long,  that  nineteen  zodiacs  have  gone  round, 

And  none  of  them  been  worn  ;  and,  for  a  name, 

Now  puts  the  drowsy  and  neglected  act 

Freshly  on  me.  M.  M.  i.  3. 

MCETY. 

Here's  goodly  gear  I  R.  J.  ii.  4. 

NIGHT. 

When  creeping  murmur,  and  the  poring  dark, 

Fill  the  wide  vessel  of  the  universe.  H.  V.  iv.  choi-us. 

The  dragon  wing  of  night  o'er-spreads  the  earth.  T.  C.  v.  9. 

The  gaudy,  blabbing,  and  remorseful  day 

Is  crept  into  the  bosom  of  the  sea  ; 

And  now  loud  howling  wolves  arouse  the  jades 

Who,  with  their  drowsy,  slow,  and  flagging  wings 

Clip  dead  men's  graves,  and  from  their  misty  jaws 

Breathe  foul  contagious  darkness  in  the  air. 

H.  VI.  FT.  ii.iy.L 

Now  o'er  the  one  half  world 
Nature  seems  dead,  and  wicked  dreams  abuse 
The  curtain'd  sleep ;  now  witchcraft  celebrates 
Pale  Hecate's  offerings :  and  wither'd  murder, 
Alarum'd  by  his  sentinel,  the  wolf, 
Whose  howl's  his  watch,  thus,  with  his  stealthy  pace, 
With  Tarquin's  ravishing  strides,  towards  his  design 
Moves  like  a  ghost.  M.  ii.  1. 

Stumbling  night  K.  J.  r.  5. 

Look  how  the  floor  of  heaven 
Is  thick  inlaid  with  patines  of  bright  gold ; 
There's  not  the  smallest  orb  which  thou  behold'st, 
But  in  his  motion  like  an  angel  sings, 
StUl  quiring  to  the  young  ey'4  cherubim*  M,  V,  T.  i. 


NIG        ft|ik*fy*ariflB  Bi'rtiominj.        NIG 

MIGHT,— continued. 

Vaporous  night  approaches.  M.  M.  iy.  1. 

Now  the  hungry  lion  roars, 

And  the  wolf  behowls  the  moon ; 
Whilst  the  heavy  ploughman  snores, 

All  with  weary  task  fore-done. 
Now  the  wasted  I  rands  do  glow, 

Whilst  the  screoch-owl,  screeching  loud, 
Puts  the  wretch  that  lies  in  woe, 

In  remembrance  of  a  shroud. 
Now  it  is  the  time  of  night, 

That  the  graves  all  gaping  wide, 
Every  one  lets  forth  his  sprite, 

In  the  church-way  paths  to  glide : 
And  we  fairies,  that  do  run, 

By  the  triple  Hecate's  team, 
From  the  presence  of  the  sun, 

Following  darkness  like  a  dream, 
Now  are  frolic ;  not  a  mouse 
Shall  disturb  this  hallow'd  house  : 
I  am  sent,  with  broom,  before, 
To  sweep  the  dust  behind  the  door.  M.  N.  v.  2 

Come,  gentle  night ;  come,  loving,  black-brow'd  night, 

Give  me  my  Romeo  ;  and,  when  he  shall  die, 

Take  him,  and  cut  him  out  in  little  stars, 

And  he  shall  make  the  face  of  heaven  so  fine, 

That  all  the  world  will  be  in  love  with  night, 

And  pay  no  worship  to  the  garish  sun.  R.  J.  iii.2 

The  iron  tongue  of  midnight  hath  told  twelve  :— 

Lovers  to  bed  ;  'tis  almost  fairy  time.  M.  N.  v.  1. 

To  bed,  to  bed :  Sleep  kill  those  pretty  eyes, 

And  give  as  soft  attachment  to  thy  senses, 

Aa  infants  empty  of  all  thought.  T.  C.  iv.  2 

Beshrew  the  witch  :  with  venomous  wights  she  stays, 

As  tediously  as  hell ;  but  flies  the  grasps  of  love, 

With  wings  more  momentary-swift  than  thought.  T.C.iv.2 

Pitchy  night.  A.  W.  iv.  4 

'Tis  now  the  very  wil«hing  time  of  night, 

When  churchyards  yawn,  and  hell  itself  breathes  out 

Contagion  to  the  world.  H.  iii.  1. 

The  time  when  screech-owls  cry,  and  ban-dogs  howl. 

H.  VI.  FT.  H.  i.  4 
Hark  1  peace  1 

It  was  the  owl  that  shriek'd,  the  fatal  bell-man. 
Which  gives  the  stern'st  good  night.  M.  ii.  £ 


NIG        ft.|j|jttff[tttijui  iirtiuniirq.       NUN 

VIGHT,— continued. 

Come,  civil  night, 
Thou  sober-suited  matron,  all  i>n  black.  R.  J.  iii.  2 

NIGHTINGALE. 

And  to  the  nightingale's  complaining  notes, 

Tune  my  distresses,  and  record  my  woes,  T.  G.  v.  4. 

NOBILITY. 

He  seems  to  be  the  more  noble  in  being  fantastical :  a 
great  man,  I'll  warrant.  W.  T,  iv.  3 

0,  that  your  young  nobility  could  judge, 
What  'twere  to  lose  it,  and  be  miserable ! 
They  that  stand  high,  have  many  blasts  to  shako  them  > 
And  if  they  fall,  they  dash  themselves  to  pieces, 

R.I1L  i.3. 

NOSE. 

A  good  nose  is  requisite,  to  smell  out  work  for  the  other 
senses.  W.T.  iv.  3 

All  that  follow  their  noses  are  led  by  their  eyes,  but  blinrt 
men ;  and  there's  not  a  nose  among  twenty  bu*  can  smell 
him  that's  stinking.  K.  L.  ii.  4. 

Fool, — Can'st  tell,  why  one's  nose  stands  i'  the  middle  of 
his  face? 

Lear. — No. 

Fool. — Why,  to  keep  his  eyes  on  either  side  Jn.3  nose  ;  that 
what  a  man  cannot  smell  out,  he  may  spy  into.  K.  L.  i.  5. 

There  is  a  fellow  somewhat  near  the  door,  he  should  be 
a  brazier  by  his  face,  for  o'  my  conscience,  twenty  of  the 
dog-days  now  reign  in's  nose ;  all  that  stand  about  him  are 
under  the  line,  they  need  no  other  penance. 

H.  VIII.  v.  3. 

NOTES. 

I  will  make  a  prief  of  it  in  my  note  book  M.  W.  i.  \ 

NOVELTIES. 

That  all,  with  one  consent,  praise  new  born  gawds, 

Though  they  are  made  and  moulded  of  things  past; 

And  give  to  dust,  that  is  a  little  gilt, 

More  laud  man  gilt  o'er-dusted. 

The  present  eye  praises  the  present  object.  T.C.  iii.  3. 

New  customs, 

Though  they  be  never  so  ridiculous, 
Nay,  let  them  be  unmanly,  yet  are  follow'd.     H.VIIf.  L  J. 

STUN. 

Question  your  desires ; 
Know  of  your  youth,  examine  well  your  blood, 


yjN       &  |r  8  ktf  pi  a  lift  ft  iirtinnnrij.       OAI 

N  UN, — continued. 

Whether,  if  you  yield  not  to  your  father's  choice, 

You  can  endure  the  livery  of  a  nun ; 

For  aye  to  be  in  shady  cloister  mew'd, 

To  live  a  barren  sister  all  your  life, 

Chaunting  faint  hymns  to  the  cold  fruitless  moon. 

Thrice  blessed  they,  that  master  so  their  blood, 

To  undergo  such  maiden  pilgrimage  ; 

But  earthlit-r  happy  is  the  rose  distill'd, 

Than  that,  which,  withering  on  the  virgin  thorn, 

Grows,  lives,  and  dies,  in  single  blessedness.         M.  N.  i.  1. 

I  hold  you  as  a  thing  ensky'd  and  sainted^ 

By  your  renouncement,  an  immortal  spirit ; 

And  to  be  talk'd  with  in  sincerity, 

As  with  a  saint.  M.  M.  i.  5. 


(D 

OAK. 

The  uooclgeablo  and  gnarled  oak.  M.M.  ii.  2, 

I  have  seen  tempests,  when  the  scolding  winds 

Have  rlv'd  the  knotty  oaks.  J.C.  i.  3 

Under  an  oak  whose  boughs  were  moss'd  with  age, 

And  higL  txjp  bald  with  dry  antiquity.  A.Y.  iv. 3 

OATHS  (See  c-Iso  LOVERS'  Vows). 

No,  not  at.  oath  :  If  not  the  face  of  men, 
The  sufferance  of  our  souls,  the  time's  abuse, — 
If  these  bo  motives  weak,  break  off  betimes, 
And  every  man  hence  to  his  idle  bed  ; 
So  let  high-sighted  tyranny  range  on, 
Till  eaoh  man  drop  by  lottery  :  But  if  these, 
As  I  am  sure  they  do,  bear  fire  enough 
To  kindle  cowards,  and  to  steel  with  valour 
The  melting  spirits  of  women  ;  then,  countrymen. 
What  need  v-e  any  spur,  but  our  own  cause, 
To  prick  us  to  redress?  what  other  bond, 
Than  secret  Romans,  that  have  spoke  the  word 
And  will  not  palter  ?  and  what  other  oath 
Than  honesty  to  honesty  engag'd, 
That  this  shall  be,  or  we  will  fall  for  it  ? 
Swear  priests,  and  cowards,  and  men  cautelous. 
Old  feeble  carrions,  and  such  suffering  souls 
That  welcome  wrongs ;  unto  bad  causes  swear 
Such  creatures  as  men  doubt ;  but  do  not  stain 
The  even  virtue  of  our  enterprise. 


Ijjabsjinman  ihitntianj.        ui 

OATHS,—- continued. 

Nor  the  unsuppressite  metal  of  our  spirits, 

To  think,  that,  or  our  cause,  or  our  performance, 

Did  need  an  oath ;  when  every  drop  of  blood, 

That  every  Roman  bears,  and  nobly  bears, 

Is  guilty  of  a  several  bastardy, 

If  he  do  break  the  smallest  particle 

Of  any  promise  that  hath  pass'd  from  him.  J.C.  ii.  1. 

'Tis  not  the  many  oaths  that  make  the  truth ; 

But  the  plain  single  vow,  that  is  vow'd  true.         A.  W.  iv.  2. 

Not  yours,  in  good  sooth !  'Heart,  you  swear  like  a  com- 
fit-maker's wife  1  Not  you,  in  good  sooth  ;  and,  As  true  as 
I  live  ;  and,  As  God  shall  mend  me  ;  and,  As  sure  as  day  ; 
And  giv'st  such  sarcenet  surety  for  thy  oaths,  as  if  thou 
never  walk'dst  further  than  Finsbury.  Swear  me,  Kate, 
like  a  lady  as  thou  art,  a  good  mouth-tilling  oath ;  and  leave 
in  sooth,  and  such  protest  of  pepper  gingerbread,  to  velvet- 
guards,  and  Sunday  citizens.  H.  IV.  PT.  i.  iii.  1. 

Trust  none ; 

For  oaths  are  straws,  men's  faiths  are  wafer-cakes, 

And  hold-fast  is  the  only  dog,  my  duck  ; 

Therefore,  caveto  be  thy  counsellor.  H.  V.  ii.  3 

Myself,  myself  confound  1 
Heaven,  and  fortune,  bar  me  happy  hours ! 
Day,  yield  me  not  thy  light ;  nor  night,  thy  rest ! 
Be  opposite,  all  planets  of  good  luck, 
To  my  proceeding,  if,  with  pure  heart's  love, 
Immaculate  devotion,  holy  thoughts, 

I  tender  not  thy  beauteous  princely  daughter,    R.  III.  iv.  4 
An  oath,  an  oath  ;  I  have  an  oath  in  heaven  : 
Shall  I  lay  perjury  upon  my  soul? 

No,  not  for  \7enice.  M.  V.  iv.  1 

I'll  take  thy  word  for  faith,  not  ask  thine  oath  ; 
Who  shuns  not  to  break  one,  will  sure  crack  both. 

P.  P.  L  £ 

Do  not  believe  his  vows ;  for  they  are  brokers, 
Not  of  that  die  which  their  investments  show, 
But  mere  implorators  of  unholy  suits, 
Breathing  like  sanctified  and  pious  bonds, 
The  better  to  beguile.  H.  i.  3 

Your  oaths  are  past,  and  now  subscribe  your  name, 
That  his  own  hand  may  strike  his  honour  down, 
That  violates  the  smallest  branch  herein.  L.  L.  L  1 

Come,  swear  it,  damn  thyself, 
Lest,  being  like  one  of  heaven,  the  devils  themselves 

200 


OAT       6}rttfftftfiit  Dirtinnanj.       OBI 

OATHS,-- continued. 

•Should  fear  to  seize  thee  :  therefore  be  double-damn'd, 
Swear — thou  art  honest.  O.  iv.  2 

0,  swear  not  by  the  moon,  the  inconstant  moon, 
That  monthly  changes  in  her  circled  orb, 
Lest  that  thy  love  prove  likewise  variable.  R.  J.  ii.  Z 

Look  thou  be  true  ;  do  not  give  dalliance 
Too  much  the  rein  ;  the  strongest  oaths  are  straw 
To  the  fire  i'  the  blood ;  be  more  abstemious, 
Or  else  good  night  your  vow.  T.  iv.  1 

Thou  see'st  that  all  the  grace  that  she  hath  left, 
Is  that  she  will  not  add  to  her  damnation 
A  sin  of  perjury.     She  not  denies  it.  M.  A.  iv.  1. 

I  have  no  cunning  in  protestation ;  only  downright  oaths, 
which  I  never  use  till  urged,  nor  never  break  for  urging. 

fl".F.v.2 

He  professes  not  keeping  of  oaths ;  in  breaking  them, 
he  is  stronger  than  Hercules.  A.  W.  iv.  3. 

It  is  a  great  sin,  to  swear  unto  a  sin ; 
But  greater  sin,  to  keep  a  sinful  oath. 
Who  can  be  bound  by  any  solemn  vow 
To  do  a  -murderous  deed,  to  rob  a  man, 
To  force  a  spotless  virgin's  chastity, 
To  'reave  the  orphan  of  his  patrimony, 
To  wrong  the  widow  from  her  custom'd  right ; 
And  have  no  other  reason  for  this  wrong, 
But  that  he  was  bound  by  a  solemn  oath  ? 

H.7I.  PP.  n.  v.  1 

By  mine  honour,  I  will ;  and  when  I  break  that  oath,  lei 
me  turn  monster.  A.  Y.  i.  2. 

But  if  you  swear  by  that  that  is  not,  you  are  not  forsworn  ,• 
no  more  was  the  knight,  swearing  by  his  honour,  for  h« 
never  had  any.  A.  Y.  i.  2. 

By  all  pretty  oaths  that  are  not  dangerous.  A.  Y.  iv.  1. 

'OBJECT. 

A  mote  it  is,  to  trouble  the  mind's  eye.  H.i.1. 

OLD  AND  FAMILIAR. 

Now  he  thanks  the  old  shepherd,  which  stands  by,  like 
a  weather-bitten  conduit  of  many  kings'  reigns. 

W.  T.  T.  2. 

OBLIVION. 

In  the  swallowing  gulf 

Of  dark  forgetfulness  and  deep  oblivion.  R.  TEL  iii.  7, 

And  all  the  clouds  that  lowr'd  upon  our  house 
In  the  deep  bosom  of  the  ocean  buried.  R.  III.  i.  L 

an 


OBL     '  ${jabspBflriait  Dirlinuanj.        OFF 

OBLIVION,— continued. 

When  time  is  old  and  hath  forgot  itself, 
When  water-drops  have  worn  the  stones  of  Troy, 
And  blind  oblivion  swallow'd  cities  up, 
And  mighty  states  characterless  are  grated 
To  dusty  nothing.  T.  C.  iii.  2. 

The  dark  backward  and  abysm  of  Timo.  .         T.  i.  2 

He  no  more  remembers  his  mother  now,  than  an  eight 
year  old  horse.  C.  v.  4 

OBSEQUIOUSNESS. 

So  play  the  foolish  throngs  with  one  that  swoons, 

Come  all  to  help  him,  and  so  stop  the  air 

By  which  he  should  revive :  and  even  so, 

The  general,  subject  to  a  well-wish'd  king, 

Quit  their  own  part,  and  in  obsequious  fondness 

Crowd  to  his  presence,  where  their  untaught  love 

Must  needs  appear  offence.  M.  M.  ii.4. 

OBSERVATION. 

For  he  is  but  a  bastard  to  the  time, 

That  doth  not  smack  of  observation.  K.  J.  i.  1. 

There  is  a  history  in  all  men's  lives 

Figuring  the  nature  of  the  times  deceas'd : 

The  which  observ'd,  a  man  may  prophecy, 

With  a  near  aim,  of  the  main  chance  of  things 

As  yet  to  come  to  life ;  which  in  their  seeds, 

And  weak  beginnings,  lie  intreasured.     H.  IV.  PT.  n.  iii.  1. 

Squandering  glances.  A.  T.  ii.  7. 

ODDITY. 

What  a  Herod  of  Jewry  is  this  I  M.  W.  ii.  1. 

I  have  lived  four  score  years  and  upward ;  I  never  heard 
of  a  man  of  his  place,  gravity,  and  learning,  so  wide  of  his 
own  respect.  M.  W,  iii.  1. 

How  oddly  he  is  suited !  I  think  he  bought  his  doublet 
in  Italy,  his  round  hose  in  France,  his  bonnet  in  Germany, 
and  his  behaviour  every  where.  M.  V.  i.  2. 

OPIUM. 

Ton  are  smelt 
Above  the  moon.  C.  v.  1. 

OFFENCE. 

The  very  head  and  front  of  my  offending 

Hath  this  extent,  no  more.  0.  i.  3. 

How  have  I  offended  ? 
All's  not  offence  that  indiscretion  finds, 
And  dotage  terms  so.  K.  Z.  ii.  4 


OFF        lljahsjuarinn  Dirtinnartj.       OMB 

OFFENCE,— continued. 

"What  is  my  offence  ? 

Where  is  the  evidence  that  doth  accuse  me  ? 
What  lawful  quest  have  given  their  verdict  up 
Onto  the  frowning  judge.  R.  III.  i.  4. 

In  such  a  time  as  this,  it  is  not  meet 
That  every  nice  offence  should  bear  its  comment.  /.  C.  iv.  3. 

OFFICE. 

Having  both  the  key  of  officer  and  office.  T.  i.  2. 

He  was  a  fool ; 

For  he  would  needs  be  virtuous :  That  good  fellow, 
If  I  command  him,  follows  my  appointment ; 
I  will  have  none  so  near  else.     Learn  this,  brother, 
We  live  not  to  be  grip'd  by  meaner  persons.     H.  VIII.  ii.  2. 
Fear  not  your  advancement ;  I  will  be  the  man  yet  thai 
shall  make  you  great.  H.  IV.  PT.  n.  v.  5. 

OFFICE,  ITS  EVILS. 

If  I  am  traduc'd  by  tongues,  which  neither  know 

My  faculties,  nor  person,  yet  will  be 

The  chronicles  of  my  doing, — let  me  Fay, 

'Tis  but  the  fate  of  place,  and  the  rough  brake 

That  virtue  must  go  through.     We  must  not  stint 

Our  necessary  actions,  in  the  fear 

To  cope  malicious  censurers  ;  which  ever, 

As  ravenous  fishes,  do  a  vessel  follow 

That  is  new  trimm'd  :  but  benefit  no  further 

Than  vainly  longing.     What  we  oft  do  best, 

By  sick  interpreters,  (once  weak  ones)  is 

Not  ours,  or  not  allow'd ;  what  worst,  as  oft, 

Hitting  a  grosser  quality,  is  cried  up 

For  our  best  act.     If  we  shall  stand  still, 

In  fear  our  motion  will  be  mock'd  or  carp'd  at, 

We  should  take  root  here  where  we  sit,  or  sit 

State  statues  only.  H.  VHL  i.  2 

INSOLENCE  OF. 

I'd  have  beaten  him  like  a  dog,  but  for  disturbing  th« 
lords  within.  C.  iv.  5. 

OMENS,  (See  also  PORTENTS). 

The  bay  trees  in  our  country  are  all  witherM, 

And  meteors  fright  the  fixed  stars  of  heaven ; 

The  pale-faced  moon  looks  bloody  on  the  earth, 

And  lean-look'd  prophets  whisper  fearful  change ; 

Rich  men  look  sad,  and  ruffians  dance  and  leap.  R.II.  ii.  4 

There  is  some  ill  a-brewing  towards  my  rest, 

For  I  did  dream  of  money-bags  to-nigbt.  M.  V  ii.  5 


OMN       $ljnbsp?iiriatt  Dntinnarq.        OPI 

OMNIPOTENCE,  INSCRUTABLE. 

He  that  of  greatest  works  is  finisher, 

Oft  does  them  by  the  weakest  minister : 

So  holy  writ  in  babes  hath  judgment  shown 

When  judges  have  been  babes.  A.  W.  L.  \ 

OPENNESS. 

I  must  be  found ; 

My  parts,  my  title,  and  my  perfect  soul, 
Shall  manifest  me  rightly.  0.  L  2 

OPHELIA  DROWNING. 

There  is  a  willow  grows  aslant  a  brook, 

That  shows  his  hoar  leaves  in  the  glassy  stream ; 

There,  with  fantastic  garlands  did  she  come, 

Of  crow-flowers,  nettles,  daisies,  and  long  purples, 

That  liberal  shepherds  give  a  grosser  name, 

But  our  cold  maids  do  dead  men's  fingers  call  them. 

There  on  the  pendant  boughs  her  coronet  weeds 

Clamb'ring  to  hang,  an  envious  sliver  broke  ; 

When  down  her  weedy  trophies,  and  herself, 

Fell  in  the  weening  brook.     Her  clothes  spread  wide  ; 

And  mermaid-like,  awhile  they  bore  her  up : 

Which  time  she  chanted  snatches  of  old  tunes ; 

As  one  incapable  of  her  own  distress, 

Or  like  a  creature  native  and  endu'd 

Unto  that  element :  but  long  it  could  not  be, 

Till  that  her  garments,  heavy  with  their  drink, 

Pull'd  the  poor  wretch  from  her  melodious  lay, 

To  muddy  death.  H.  IV.  7 

OPINION  (See  also  CENSURE.) 

I  am  that  I  am,  and  they  that  level 
At  my  abuses,  reckon  up  their  owne, 
I  may  be  straight,  though  they  themselves  be  bevell, 
By  their  rank  thoughts,  my  deeds  must  not  be  showne : 
Unless  this  general  evil  they  maintaine, 
All  men  are  bad,  and  in  their  badness  raigne.    Poems 

Because  you  want  the  grace  that  oth^-s  have, 
You  judge  it  straight  a  thing  impossible 
To  compass  wonders,  but  by  help  of  devils. 

H.  VI.  FT.  i.  v.  4 

There's  nothing  good  or  bad,  but  thinking  makes  it  so. 

H.  ii.  2 
Our  virtues 

Lie  in  the  interpretation  of  the  time.  C.  if  7. 

Opiniqn,  a  sovereign  mistress  cf  effects,  O,  i  3 

m 


OPI        $jfftfctfftiimi  liriinnanj.       OPP 

OPINION,— continued. 

But  fish  not  with  this  melanch  jly  bait, 
For  this  fool's  gudgeon,  this  opinion.  M.  F.  i.  i. 

Opinion's  but  a  fool,  that  makes  us  scan 
The  outward  habit  for  the  inward  man.  P.  P.  ii.  2. 

A  plague  of  opinion  !  a  man  may  wear  it  on  both  Hides, 
like  a  leather  jerkin.  T.  C.  iii  3 

OPPORTUNITY  (See  also  DELAY,  IRRESOLUTION,  NEGLECT). 
There  is  a  tide  in  the  affairs  of  men, 
Which,  taken  at  the  flood,  leads  on  to  fortune  ; 
Omitted,  all  the  voyage  of  their  life 
Is  bound  in  shallows,  and  in  miseries. 
On  such  a  full  sea  are  we  now  afloat ; 
And  we  must  take  the  current  when  it  serves, 
Or  lose  out  ventures.  J.C.  iv.  3 

Who  seeks,  and  will  not  take,  when  once  'tis  offer* d, 
Shall  never  find  it  more.  A.C.  ii.  7. 

When  the  sun  shines,  let  foolish  gnats  make  sport, 
But  creep  in  crannies,  when  he  hides  his  beams. 

C.  E.  ii.  2. 

A  little  fire  is  quickly  trodden  out ; 
Which,  being  suffer'd,  rivers  cannot  quench. 

H.  FT.  PT.  in.  iv.  a 

The  means  that  heaven  yields  must  be  embrac'd, 
And  not  neglected  ;  else,  if  heaven  would, 
And  we  will  not,  heaven's  offer  we  refuse.  JR.  II.  iii.  2. 

I  find  my  zenith  doth  depend  upon 
A  most  auspicious  star  ;  whose  influence 
If  now  I  court  not,  but  omit,  my  fortunes 
Will  ever  after  droop.  T.  i.  2 

OPPOSITION. 

Back,  I  say,  go ;  lest  I  let  forth  your  half  pint  of  blood  ; — 
back, — that's  the  utmost  of  your  having : — back.        C.  v.  2 

OPPRESSION. 

I  love  not  to  see  wretchedness  o'ercharg'd, 

And  duty  in  his  service  perishing.  M.N.  v.  1. 

I  am  an  ass,  indeed  ;  you  may  prove  it  by  my  long  ears. 
I  have  served  him  from  the  hour  of  my  nativity  to  this  in- 
stant, and  have  nothing  at  his  hands  for  my  service,  but 
blows  ;  when  I  am  cold,  he  heats  me  with  beating  :  when 
I  am  warm,  he  cools  me  with  beating  ;  I  am  awak'd  with 
it,  when  I  sleep ;  rais'd  with  it,  when  I  sit ;  driven  out  of 
doors  with  it,  when  I  go  from  home  ;  welcomed  home  with 
it,  when  I  return :  nay,  I  bear  it  on  my  shoulder*,  aa  9 
"»<•>  -^ 


OPP        ^jjnluspnrinn  DirHnmmj.       ORD 

0  PPRESSION,— continual 

beggar  her  brat ;  and,  I  think,  when  t  e  hath  lam'd  me,  1 
shall  beg  with  it  from  door  to  door.  C.  E.  iv.  4. 

Each  new  morn, 

New  widows  howl,  new  orphans  cry,  new  sorrows 
Strike  heaven  on  the  face.  M.  iv.  2 

THE  NATURAL  DUTY  OF  RESISTANCE  TO. 


To  whom  do  lions  cast  their  gentle  looks  ? 
Not  to  the  beast  that  would  usurp  their  den. 
Whose  hand  is  that  the  forest  bear  doth  lick  ? 
Not  his,  that  spoils  her  young  before  her  face. 
Who  'scapes  the  lurking  serpent's  mortal  sting? 
Not  he  that  sets  his  foot  upon  her  back. 
The  smallest  worm  will  turn,  being  trodden  on, 
And  doves  will  peck,  in  safeguard  of  their  brood. 

H.VI.  PT.  in.  ii.2 
The  poor  wren, 

The  most  diminutive  of  birds,  will  fight, 
Her  young  ones  in  the  nest,  against  the  owl.  M.  iv.  2 

OPTICS  (See  EYE). 

ORATION,  PEDANTIC. 

Taffeta  phrases,  silken  terms  precise, 

Three  pil'd  hyperboles,  spruce  affectation, 

Figures  pedantical ;  these  summer  flies 
Have  blown  me  full  of  maggot  ostentation.        L.  L  v.  2 

ORATOR. 

Doubt  not,  my  lord ;  I'll  play  the  orator, 

As  if  the  golden  fee,  for  which  I  plead, 

Were  for  myself.  R.  HI.  iii.  5. 

ORATORY,  POPULAR. 

For  in  such  business, 

Action  is  eloquence,  and  the  eyes  of  the  ignorant 
More  learned  than  their  ears.  C.  iii.  - 

Pray,  be  content ; 

Mother,  I  am  going  to  the  market-place ; 
Chide  me  no  more.    I'll  mountebank  their  loves, 
Cog  their  hearts  from  tho;n,  and  come  home  belov'd 
Of  all  the  trades  in  Rome.  C.  iii.  2 

OBDER. 

Degree  being  vizarded, 

The  unworthiest  shows  as  fairly  in  the  mask. 
The  heavens  themselves,  the  planets,  and  this  centre, 
Observe  degree,  priority,  and  place, 
Insisture,  course,  proportion,  season,  form, 
IN 


ORD       Ijjahspearhtt  Sntinniinj.       ORD 

OR  DER, — continued. 

Office,  and  custom,  in  all  line  of  order : 
And  therefore  is  the  glorious  planet,  Sol, 
In  noble  eminence  enthron'd  and  spher'd 
Amidst  the  other ;  whose  med'cinable  eye 
Corrects  the  ill  aspects  of  planets  evil, 
And  posts,  like  the  commandment  of  a  king, 
Sans  check,  to  good  and  bad  :     But  when  the  planets, 
In  evil  mixture,  to  disorder  wander, 
What  plagues,  and  what  portents !  what  mutiny ! 
What  raging  of  the  sea !  shaking  of  earth  1 
Commotion  in  the  winds !  frights,  changes,  horrors, 
Divert  and  crack,  rend  and  deracinate 
The  unity  and  married  calm  of  states 
Quite  from  their  fixture !     0,  when  degree  is  shak'd, 
Which  is  the  ladder  of  all  high  designs, 
The  enterprise  is  sick !     How  could  communities, 
Degrees  in  schools,  and  brotherhoods  in  cities, 
Peaceful  commerce  from  divided  shores, 
The  primogeniture  and  due  of  birth, 
Prerogative  of  age,  crowns,  sceptres,  laurels, 
But  by  degree,  stand  in  authentic  place  ? 
Take  but  degree  away,  untune  that  string, 
And,  hark,  what  discord  follows  !  each  thing  meets 
In  mere  oppugnancy :     The  bounded  waters 
Should  lift  their  bosoms  higher  than  the  shores, 
And  make  a  sop  of  all  this  solid  globe : 
Strength  should  be  lord  of  imbecility, 
And  the  rude  son  should  strike  his  father  dead : 
Force  should  be  right ;  or,  rather,  right  and  wrong 
(Between  whose  endless  jar  justice  resides) 
Should  lose  their  names,  and  so  should  justice  too. 
Then  every  thing  includes  itself  in  power, 
Power  into  will,  will  into  appetite : 
And  appetite,  a  universal  wolf, 
So  doubly  seconded  with  will  and  power, 
Must  make  perforce  a  universal  prey, 
And,  last,  eat  up  himself.     Great  Agamemnon ; 
This  chaos,  when  degree  is  suffocate, 
follows  the  choking : 
Arid  this  neglection  of  degree  it  is, 
That  by  a  pace  goes  backward,  with  a  purpose 
It  hath  to  climb.     The  general's  disdain'd 
By  him  one  step  below ;  he,  by  the  next ; 
That  next,  by  him  beneath :  so  every  step, 
Exampled  by  the  first  pace  that  is  sick 
Of  his  superior,  grow?  to  an  envious  fever 
Of  pale  and  bloodless  emulation.  T.C.  13 

as 


ORD       ££fktif*ittii  Suiinniinj.       oru 

ORDER,— continued. 

The  world  is  still  deceivM  with  ornament. 

In  law,  what  plea  so  tainted  and  corrupt, 

But,  being  season'd  with  a  gracious  voice, 

Obscures  the  show  of  evil  ?     In  religion, 

What  damned  error,  but  some  sober  brow 

Will  bless  it,  and  approve  it  with  a  text, 

Hiding  the  grossness  with  fair  ornament  ?  M.  V.  iii.  S 

ORNAMENT. 

Thus  ornament  is  but  the  guiled  shore 

To  a  most  dangerous  sea ;  the  beauteous  scarf 

Veiling  an  Indian  beauty ;  in  a  word, 

The  seeming  truth  which  cunning  times  put  on 

To  entrap  the  wisest.  M.  V.  iii.  2 

OTHELLO'S  APOLOGY. 

Rude  am  I  in  speech, 

And  little  bless'd  with  the  soft  phrase  of  peace ; 
For  since  these  arms  of  mine  had  seven  years'  pith, 
Till  now  some  nine  moons  wasted,  they  have  us'd 
Their  dearest  action  in  the  tented  field ; 
And  little  of  this  great  world  can  I  speak, 
More  than  pertains  to  feats  of  broil  and  battle  ; 
And  therefore  little  shall  I  grace  my  cause, 
In  speaking  for  myself:  Yet,  by  your  gracious  patience, 
I  will  a  round  unvarnish'd  tale  deliver 
Of  my  whole  course  of  love  ;  what  drugs,  what  charms 
What  conjuration,  and  what  mighty  magic, 
(For  such  proceeding  I  am  charg'd  withal) 
I  won  his  daughter  with. 

Her  father  lov'd  me ;  oft  invited  me  ; 
Still  question'd  me  the  story  of  my  life, 
From  year  to  year;  the  battles,  sieges,  fortunes, 
That  I  have  pass'd. 

I  ran  it  through,  even  from  my  boyish  days, 
To  the  very  moment  that  he  bade  me  tell  it. 
Wherein  I  spoke  of  most  disastrous  chances, 
Of  moving  accidents  by  flood  and  field  ; 
Of  hair-breadth  'scapes  i'  the  imminent  deadly  breach : 
Of  being  taken  by  the  insolent  foe, 
And  sold  to  slavery ;  of  my  redemption  thence, 
And  portance  in  my  travel's  history : 
Wherein  of  antres  vast,  and  desarts  wild, 
Rough  quarries,  rocks,  and  hills  whose  heads  touch  heaven 
It  was  my  hint  to  speak.     Such  was  my  process  ; 
And  of  the  cannibals  that  each  other  eat, 
The  Anthropophagi,  and  men  whose  heads 
Do  grow  beneath  their  shoulders.     These  things  to  hear, 

268 


OTH       lijaktBprflriaB  DidiDuartj.       oru 

OTHELLO'S  APOLOGY, — continued. 

Would  Desdemona  seriously  incline: 

But  still  the  house  affairs  would  draw  her  thence  ; 

Which  ever  as  she  could  with  haste  despatch, 

She'd  come  again,  and  with  a  greedy  ear 

Devour  up  my  discourse :  Which  I  observing, 

Took  once  a  pliant  hour  ;  and  found  good  means 

To  draw  from  her  a  prayer  of  earnest  heart, 

That  I  would  all  my  pilgrimage  dilate, 

Whereof  by  parcels  she  had  something  heard. 

But  not  distinctively.     I  did  consent ; 

And  often  did  beguile  her  of  her  tears, 

When  I  did  speak  of  some  distressful  stroke, 

That  my  youth  sufferM.     My  story  being  done, 

She  gave  me  for  my  pains  a  world  of  sighs  ; 

She  swore, — In  faith,  'twas  strange,  'twas  passing  strange, 

'Twas  pitiful,  'twas  wondrous  pitiful : 

She  wish'd'  she  had  not  heard  it ;  yet  she  wish'd 

That  heaven  had  made  her  such  a  man.     She  thank'd  me  ; 

And  bade  me,  if  I  had  a  friend  that  lov'd  her, 

I  should  but  teach  him  how  to  tell  my  story, 

And  that  would  woo  her.     Upon  this  hint  I  spake  ; 

She  lov'd  me  for  the  dangers  I  had  pass'd ; 

And  I  lov'd  her,  that  she  did  pity  them  : 

This  only  is  the  witchcraft  I  have  us'd ; 

Here  comes  the  lady,  let  her  witness  it.  0.  L  3 


FAREWELL. 

0  now,  for  ever, 

Farewell  the  tranquil  mind  !  Farewell  content ! 
Farewell  the  plumed  troop,  and  the  big  wars, 
That  make  ambition  virtue  !    0,  farewell ! 
Farewell  the  neighing  steed,  and  the  shrill  trump, 
The  spirit-stirring  drum,  the  ear-piercing  fife, 
The  royal  banner ;  and  all  quality, 
Pride,  pomp,  and  circumstance  of  glorious  war ! 
And,  0,  you  mortal  engines,  whose  rude  throats 
The  immortal  Jove's  dread  clamours  counterfeit, 
Farewell ! — Othello's  occupation's  gone !  0.  iii. 

HANDKERCHIEF. 

There's  magic  in  the  web  of  it: 
A  sybil,  that  had  number'd  in  the  world 
The  sun  to  make  two  hundred  compasses, 
In  her  prophetic  fury  sew'd  the  work : 
The  worms  were  hallow'd  that  did  breed  the  silk  ; 
And  it  was  dy'd  in  mummy,  which  the  skilful 
Conserv'd  of  maidens'  hearts.  0.  iii. 


OVE        fjfttofftarui  luthnnrti. 

OVERMATCHED. 

If  there  were  not  two  or  three  and  fifty  upon  poor  old 
Jack,  I  am  no  two-legged  creature-  H,IV,  PT.  I.  ii.  4. 

OUTCAST 

I  am  one  my  liege, 

Whom  the  vile  blows  and  buffets  of  the  world 
Have  so  incens'd,  that  I  am  reckless  what 
I  do  to  spite  the  world.  if.  iii.  I. 

So  weary  with  disasters,  tugg'd  with  fortune, 
That  I  would  set  my  life  on  any  chance 
To  mend  it,  or  be  rid  on't.  M.  iii.  1. 

Sick  in  the  world's  regard,  wretched,  and  low, 
A  poor  unminded  outlaw.  H.  IV.  PT.  i.  iv.  3. 

OUTRAGEOUSNESS. 

Why,  this  passes,  Mister  Ford :  you  are  not  to  go  loose 
any  longer,  you  must  be  pinioned.  M.  W.  iv.  2. 

Why,  this  is  lunatics.  M.  W.  iv.  2. 

OUTWITTED. 

Thou  art  not  vanquish'd, 
But  cozen'd  and  beguil'd.  K.  L.  v.  3. 


PACIFICATION. 

Each  word  thou  hast  spoke  hath  weeded  from  my  heart 
A  root  of  antient  envy.  C.  iv.  6 

0,  let  me  twine 

Mine  arms  about  that  body,  where  against 
My  grained  ash  an  hundred  times  hath  broke, 
And  searr'd  the  moon  with  splinters  !  C.  iv  5 

PAINTING  (See  also  PORTRAIT). 

Dost  thou  love  pictures  ?     We  will  fetch  thee  straight 

Adonis,  painted  by  a  running  brook  : 

And  Cytherea,  all  in  sedges  hid ; 

Which  seem  to  move  and  wanton  with  her  breath, 

Even  as  the  waving  sedges  play  with  wind. 

We'll  show  thee  lo,  as  she  was  a  maid  ; 

And  how  she  was  beguiled  and  surpris'd, 

As  lively  painted  as  the  deed  was  done. 

Or  Daphne,  roaming  through  a  thorny  wood  ; 

Scratching  her  legs  that  one  shall  swear  she  bleeds; 

And  at  that  sight  shall  sad  Apollo  weep, 

So  workmanly  the  tbod  and  tears  are  drawn     T.  S.  IND.  2. 

370 


PAI        &IjakBSjiniriait  Sirtinnnrij.        PAK 

PAINTING,— co  ntinued. 

Painting  is  welcome, 
The  painting  is  almost  the  natural  man ; 
For  since  dishonour  trafficks  with  man's  naturu, 
He  is  but  outside :  These  peneil'd  figures  are 
Ev'n  such  as  they  give  out.  T.  A.  i,  1 

It  is  a  pretty  mocking  of  the  life.  T.  A.  i,  1 

I'll  say  of  it 
It  tutors  nature :  artificial  strife 

•       Lives  in  these  touches,  livelier  than  life.  T.  A.  i.  1. 

How  this  grace 

Speaks  his  own  standing  !  what  a  mental  power 
This  eye  shoots  forth  !  How  big  imagination 
Moves  in  this  lip  !  to  the  dumbness  of  the  gesture 
One  might  interpret.  T.  A.  i.  1 

Timon. — Wrought  he  not  well  that  painted  this  ? 
Apemantus. — He  wrought  better  that  made  the  painter  • 
and  yet  he's  but  a  filthy  piece  of  work.  T.  A.  i.  1 

PALLIATION. 

Some  sins  do  bear  their  privilege  on  earth, 

And  so  doth  your's.  K.  J.  i.  1. 

PALPABILITY. 

Day-light  and  champian  discovers  not  more.  T.N.  ii.  5. 

PANIC. 

Norweyan  banners  flout  the  sky, — 
And  fan  our  people  cold.  M.  i.  2. 

PARADOX. 

You  undergo  too  strict  a  paradox, 

Striving  to  make  an  ugly  deed  look  fair.  T.A.  iii.  5 

PARADOXES. 

These  are  old  fond  paradoxes,  to  make  fool's  laugh  i'  the 
alehouse.    f  0.  ii.  1. 

PARASITES  (See  also  FLATTERY). 

That,  Sir,  which  serves  and  seeks  for  gain, 

And  follows  but  for  form, 
Will  pack,  when  it  begins  to  rain, 

And  leave  thee  in  the  storm.  K.  L.\i.\ 

0,  you  gods  !  what  a  number 
Uf  men  eat  Timon,  and  he  sees  them  not ! 
It  grieves  me,  to  see  so  many  dip  their  meat 
In  one  man's  blood  ;  and  all  the  madness  is, 
He  cheers  them  up  too.  T.A  \.  2 

271 


PAR       |ljab0|ijarian  Dntioiiarij.       PAB 

PARASITES,— continued. 

'Tis  such  as  you, 

That  creep  like  shadows  by  him,  and  do  sigh 
At  each  his  needless  heavings, — such  as  you 
Nourish  the  cause  of  his  awakings :  I 
Do  come  with  words  as  med'cinal  as  true, 
Honest,  as  either  ;  to  purge  him  of  that  humour 
That  presses  him  from  sleep.  W.  T.  ii.  3 

It  is  the  curse  of  kings,  to  be  attended 
By  slaves,  that  take  their  humour  for  a  warrant 
To  break  within  the  bloody  house  of  life  ; 
And,  on  the  winking  of  authority, 
To  understand  a  law :  to  know  the  meaning 
Of  dangerous  majesty,  when,  perchance,  it  frowns 
More  upon  honour  than  advis'd  respect.  K.  J.  iv.  2 

Feast-won,  fast-lost ;  one  cloud  of  winter  showers  ; 
These  flies  are  coueh'd.  T.A.  ii.  2. 

To  me  you  cannot  reach,  you  play  the  spaniel, 
And  think  with  wagging  of  your  tongue  to  win  me 
But  whatso'er  thou  tak'st  me  for,  I  am  sure 
Thou  hast  a  cruel  nature,  and  a  bloody.  H.  VIIL  v.  2. 

0  villains,  vipers,  damn'd  without  redemption  ! 
Pogs,  easily  won  to  fawn  on  any  man  1 
Snakes,  in  my  heart-blood  warm'd,  that  sting  my  heart ! 

R.  II.  iii.  2 

When  the  rain  came  to  wet  me  once,  and  the  wind  to 
make  me  chatter ;  when  the  thunder  would  not  peace  at  my 
bidding ;  there  I  found  them,  there  I  smelt  them  out.  Go 
to,  they  are  not  men  o'  their  words :  they  told  me  I  was 
every  thing ; — 'tis  a  lie  ;  I'm  not  ague-proof.  A'.  L.  iv.  6. 

May  you  a  better  feast  never  behold, 

You  knot  of  mouth-friends  !  Smoke  and  hike-warm  water 

Is  your  perfection.     This  is  Timon's  last ; 

Who  stuck  and  spangled  you  with  flatteries, 

Washes  it  off,  and  sprinkles  in  your  faces 

Your  reeking  villainy.     Live  loath'd,  and  long, 

Most  smiling,  smooth,  detested  parasites, 

Courteous  destroyers,  affable  wolves,  meak  bears, 

You  fools  of  fortune,  trencher  friends,  time's  flies, 

Cap  and  knee  slaves,  vapours,  and  minute-jacks  1 

Of  man,  and  beast,  the  infinite  malady 

Crust  you  quite  o'er"  T.A.  ii.  6 

PARDON 

Yes,  1  do  think  that  you  might  pardon  him, 
And  neither  heaven  nor  man  grieve  at  the  mercy. 

M.M ii.2, 

272 


PAR       lljflbsjimiiiii  Dirtinnari)        PAB 

PARENTAL  AFFECTION  (See  also  AFFLICTION). 
How  sometimes  nature  will  betray  its  folly, 
Its  tenderness,  and  make  itself  a  pastime 
To  harder  bosoms  1     Looking  on  the  lines 
Of  my  boy's  face,  methought  I  did  recoil 
Twenty-three  years,  and  saw  myself  unbreech 
In  my  green  velvet  coat;  my  dagger  muzzled, 
Lest  it  should  bite  its  master,  and  so  prove 
As  ornaments  oft  do,  too  dangerous.  W.  T,  i  2 

You  have  no  children,  butchers !  if  you  had, 

The  thought  of  them  would  have  stirr'd  up  re&  -*S3 

H.VI.  *J.  SH.V.  5. 
And  my  young  boy 
Hath  an  asp6ct  of  intercession,  which 
Great  nature  cries,  deny  not.  (J.  v.  8 

Unreasonable  creatures  feed  their  young : 
And  though  man's  face  be  fearful  to  their  eyes, 
Yet  in  protection  of  their  tender  ones, 
Who  hath  not  seen  them  (even  with  those  winga 
Which  sometimes  they  have  us'd  with  fearful  flight) 
Make  war  with  him  that  climb'd  unto  their  nest, 
Offering  their  own  lives  in  their  young's  defence  f 

H.  VI.  PT.  ik  .  ii.  2. 

PARLIAMENT. 

God  speed  the  parliament  1  H.  VI.  PT.  i.  i'i  2 

PARRYING. 

Truly,  madam,  he  holds  Belzebub  at  the  stave's  end.  as 
well  as  a  man  in  his  case  may  do.  T.  N.v.l. 

Thou  knowest  my  old  ward ; — here  I  lay,  and  thus  I  bore 
my  point.  H.  IV.  PT.  i.  ii.  4. 

PARTING. 

Parting  is  such  sweet  sorrow, 
That  I  shall  say — good  night,  till  it  be  morrow.     R.  J.  ii.  2. 

For  so  long 

As  he  could  make  me  with  this  eye  or  ear 
Distinguish  him  from  others,  he  did  keep 
The  deck,  with  glove,  or  hat,  or  handkerchief, 
Still  waving,  as  the  fits  or  stirs  of  his  mind 
Could  best  express  how  slow  his  soul  sail'd  on, 
How  swift  his  ship.  Gym.  \  4 

Farewell !  the  leisure  and  the  fearful  time 
Cuts  off  the  ceremonious  vows  of  love, 
And  ample  interchange  of  sweet  discourse, 
Which  so  long  sunder'd  friends  should  dwell  upon  } 


fA  RTING,— continued. 

God  give  us  leisure  for  these  rites  of  love ! 

Once  more,  adieu !  B.  III.  v.  3. 

0,  my  lord, 

Must  I  then  leave  you  ?     Must  I  needs  forego 
So  good,  so  noble,  and  so  true  a  master  ? 
Bear  witness,  all  that  have  not  hearts  of  iron, 
With  what  a  sorrow  Cromwell  leaves  his  lord. 
The  king  shall  have  my  service  ;  but  my  prayers, 
For  ever,  and  for  ever,  shall  be  yours.  H.  VIII.  iii.  11. 

Farewell  1  God  knows  when  we  shall  meet  again. 
I  have  a  faint  cold  fear  thrills  through  my  veins, 
That  almost  freezes  up  the  heat  of  life.  R.  J.  ii.  2. 

And  even  there,  his  eyes  being  big  with  tears, 

Turning  his  face,  he  put  his  hand  behind  him, 

And  with  affection  wondrous  sensible, 

He  wrung  Bassanio's  hand,  and  so  they  parted.    M.  V.  ii.  8. 

I  would  have  broke  mine  eye-strings  ;  crack' d  them,  but 

To  look  upon  him  ;  till  the  diminution 

Of  space  nad  pointed  him  sharp  as  my  needle ; 

Nay,  followed  him,  till  he  had  melted  from 

The  smallness  of  a  gnat,  to  air ;  and  then 

Have  turn'd  mine  eye,  and  wept.  Cym.  i.  4 

What!  gone  without  a  word? 
Ay,  so  true  love  should  do :  it  cannot  speak  ; 
For  truth  had  better  deeds  than  words,  to  grace  it. 

T.G.  ii.  2 

We  make  woe  wanton  with  this  foul  delay ; 
Once  more,  adieu !  the  rest  let  sorrow  say.  E.  II.  v.  1 

A.nd  whether  we  shall  meet  again,  I  know  not. 
Therefore,  our  everlasting  farewell  take  : — 
For  ever,  and  for  ever,  farewell,  Cassius ! 
If  ever  we  do  meet  again,  why  we  shall  smile  : 
If  not,  why  then  this  parting  was  well  made.          J.  C.  v.  i 

Should  we  be  taking  leave 
A.S  long  a  term  as  yet  we  have  to  live, 
The  loathness  to  depart  would  grow.  Cym.  i.  2 

We  two,  that  with  so  many  thousand  sighs 
Did  buy  each  other,  must  poorly  sell  ourselves 
With  the  rude  brevity  and  discharge  of  one. 
Injurious  time,  now  with  a  robber's  haste, 
Crams  his  rich  thievery  up,  he  knows  not  how  ; 
As  many  farewells  as  be  stars_in  heaven, 
With  diatinct  breath  and  consign'd  kisses  to  them, 
He  fumbles  up  into  a  loose  adieu  ; 

274 


PAP       $jiaktaptflriaii  iiitiBnarii.       PAB 

PARTING,— continued. 

And  scants  us  with  a  single  famish'd  kiss, 

Distasted  with  the  salt  of  broken  tears.  T.C.  iv.  4. 

Portia,  adieu  I  I  have  too  griev'd  a  heart 

To  take  a  tedious  leave.  M.  V.  it  7 

At  once,  good  night: — 
Stand  not  upon  the  order  of  your  going, 
But  go  at  once.  M.  iii.  4 

Come; 

Our  separation  so  abides,  and  flies, 
That  thou,  residing  here,  go'st  yet  with  me, 
And  I,  hence  fleeting,  here  remain  with  thee.          A.  0.  i.  3 
And  so,  without  more  circumstance  at  all, 
I  hold  it  fit,  that  we  shake  hands  and  part ; 
You,  as  your  business,  and  desire,  shall  point  you  :— 
For  every  man  hath  business,  and  desire, 
Such  as  it  is, — and  for  mine  own  poor  part, 
Look  you,  I  will  go  pray.  H.  i.  5. 

'Tis  almost  morning,  I  would  have  thee  gone : 
And  yet  no  further  than  a  wanton's  bird ; 
Who  lets  it  hop  a  little  from  her  hand, 
Like  a  poor  prisoner  in  his  twisted  gyves, 
And  with  a  silk  thread  plucks  it  back  again, 
So  loving  jealous  of  his  liberty.  R.  J.  ii.  2. 

Here  is  my  hand  for  my  true  constancy ; 
And  when  that  hour  o'er-slips  me  in  the  day, 
Wherein  I  sigh  not,  Julia,  for  thy  sake, 
The  next  ensuing  hour  some  foul  mischance 
Torment  me  for  my  love's  forge tfulness.  T.  G.  ii.  2. 

Wilt  thou  begone  ?  it  is  not  yet  near  day : 
It  was  the  nightingale,  and  not  the  lark, 
That  pierc'd  the  fearful  hollow  of  thine  ear ; 
Nightly  she  sings  on  yon  pomegranate  tree  ; 
Believe  me,  love,  it  was  the  nightingale.  R.  J.  iii.  5 

I  did  not  take  my  leave  of  him,  but  had 
Most  pretty  things  to  say :  ere  I  could  tell  him, 
How  I  would  think  on  him,  at  certain  hours, 
Such  thoughts,  and  such ;         *        *        * 
or  have  charged  him, 

At  the  sixth  hour  of  morn,  at  noon,  at  midnight, 
T'  encounter  me  with  orisons  ;  for  then, 
I  am  in  heaven  for  him ;  or  ere  I  could 
Give  him  that  parting  kiss,  which  I  had  set 
Betwixt  two  charming  words,  comes  in  my  father, 
And,  like  the  tyrannous  breathing  of  the  north, 
Shakes  all  our  buds  from  growing.  Cym.  \.  4 

275 


PAR       ^jjnhspBcnan  Sirtinuanj.        PAT 

PARTING.—con/tnued. 

Tend,  me  to-night ; 

May  be,  it  is  the  period  of  youi  duty ; 
Haply,  you  shall  not  see  me  more ;  or  if, 
A  mangled  shadow  :  perchance,  to-morrow, 
You'll  serve  another  master     I  look  on  you, 
As  one  that  takes  his  leave.     Mine  honest  friends  • 
I  turn  you  not  away ;  but,  like  a  master, 
Married  to  your  good  service,  stay  till  death.        A.  C.  iv  2 

PARTY  RANCOUR. 

These  days  are  dangerous  I 
Virtue  is  chok'd  with  foul  ambition, 
And  charity  chas'd  hence  by  rancour's  hand. 

H.  VI.  PT.  ii.  iii.  1. 

PASSION. 

All  the  more  it  seeks  to  hide  itself, 

The  bigger  bulk  it  shows.  T.  iii  1. 

PASSIONS,  CONFLICTING  (See  also  EMOTIONS]. 

Thou  think'st  'tis  much  that  this  contentious  storm 

Invades  us  to  the  skin :  so  'tis  to  thee  ; 

But  where  the  greater  malady  is  fix'd, 

The  lesser  is  scarce  felt.     Thou'dst  shun  a  bear : 

But  if  thy  flight  lay  towards  the  raging  sea, 

Thou'dst  meet  a  bear  i'  the  mouth.    When  the  mind's  free, 

The  body's  delicate :  the  tempest  in  my  mind 

Doth  from  my  senses  take  all  feeling  else, 

Save  what  beats  there.  K.  L.  iii.  4. 

PASSIONS,  GCILTT. 

Poor  chastity  is  rifled  of  her  store, 

And  lust,  the  thief,  far  poorer  than  before.  Poema. 

PASTIME. 

This  will  be  pastime  passing  excellent 

If  it  be  husbanded  with  modesty.  T.  S.  INL>.  1 

Say,  what  abridgment  have  you  for  this  evening  ? 
What  mask  ?  what  music  ?  How  shall  we  beguile 
The  lazy  time,  if  not  with  some  delight?  M.  N.  v.  1. 

Courtship,  pleasant  jest  and  courtesy, 
As  bombast,  and  as  lining  to  the  time.  L.  L.  v.  2. 

PA  TCHING. 

Any  thing  that's  mended,  is  but  patched:  virtue,  that 
transgresses,  is  but  patched  with  sin  ;  and  sin,  that  amends 
'*  but  patched  with  virtue.  T.  N.  i.  5 

M 


PAT       fcjjakff piano  Sirthuani.       PAT 
PATIENCE. 

He,  that  would  have  a  cake  out  of  the  wheat,  must  tarry 
the  grinding.  T.C.  i.  I, 

Though  patience  be  a  tired  mare,  yet  she  will  plod. 

H.V.  ii.  1. 

How  poor  are  they  that  have  not  patience ! 
What  wound  did  ever  heal  but  by  degrees  ? 
Thou  know'st  we  work  by  wit,  and  not  by  witchcraft ; 
And  wit  depends  on  dilatory  time.  O.  ii.  3. 

Thou  young  and  rose-lipp'd  cherubim.  0.  iv.  2 

I  do  note, 

That  grief  and  patience,  rooted  in  him  both, 
Mingle  their  spurs  together.  Cym.  iv.  2, 

Grow,  patience ! 

And  let  the  stinking  elder,  grief,  untwine 
His  perishing  root,  with  the  increasing  vine.        Cym.  iv.  2. 
Ceasa  to  lament  for  that  thou  canst  not  help, 
And  study  help  from  that  which  thou  lament'st. 
Time  is  the  nurse  and  breeder  of  all  good.  T.  G.  iii.  1 

So  let  the  Turk  of  Cyprus  us  beguile  ; 

\Ve  lose  it  not,  so  long  as  we  can  smile, 

He  bears  the  sentence  well,  that  nothing  bears 

But  the  free  comfort  which  from  thence  he  hears : 

But  he  bears  both  the  sentence  and  the  sorrow, 

That,  to  pay  grief,  must  of  poor  patience  borrow.     O.  i.  3 

Nay,  patience,  or  we  break  the  sinews  of  our  plot. 

T.N.  ii.5. 

That  which  in  mean  men  we  entitle  patience, 
Is  pale  cold  cowardice  in  noble  breasts.  R.  H.  i.  2. 

0,  gentle  son, 

Upon  the  heat  and  flame  of  thy  distemper, 
Sprinkle  cool  patience.  H.  ii.  4 

Signior  Antonio,  many  a  time  and  oft, 

On  the  Rial  to,  you  have  rated  me 

About  my  monies,  and  my  usances : 

Still  I  have  borne  it  with  a  patient  shrug : 

For  sufferance  is  the  badge  of  all  our  tribe.  M.  V.  i.  3, 

Patience,  unmov'd,  no  marvel  though  she  pause  ; 

They  can  be  meek  that  have  no  other  cause. 

A  wretched  soul,  bruis'd  with  adversity, 

We  bid  be  quiet  when  we  hear  it  cry ; 

But  were  we  burthen'd  with  like  weight  of  pain, 

fa  much,  or  more,  we  should  ourselves  complain. 

C.JE.u  I 
84 


PAT       j?jjflkrsptanan  ;.  idinnarij.       PEA 

PA  '1'IE  X  CE,— continued. 

I  have  her  sovereign  aid, 
And  rest  myself  content.  T.  v.  L 

I  do  oppose 

My  patience  to  his  fury;  and  am  arm'd 
To  suffer  with  a  quietness  of  spirit, 
The  very  tyranny  and  rage  of  his.  M.  F,  iv.  1 

Henceforth,  I'll  bear 
Affliction,  till  it  do  cry  out  itself, 
Enough,  enough,  and  die.  K.  L.  iv.  6 

PATRIOTISM. 

If  it  be  aught  toward  the  general  good, 

S»t  honour  in  one  eye,  and  death  i'  the  other, 

And  I  will  look  on  both  indifferently : 

For,  let  the  gods  so  speed  me,  as  I  love 

The  name  of  honour,  more  than  I  fear  death.          /.  C.  i.  2, 

I  am  the  son  of  Marcus  Cato,  ho  1 

A  foe  to  tyrants  and  my  country's  friend.  /.  C.  v.  4. 

There  was  a  Brutus  once,  that  would  have  brook'd 

The  eternal  devil  to  keep  his  state  in  Rome, 

As  easily  as  a  king.  /.  C.  i.  2. 

Our  subjects,  Sir, 
Will  not  endure  his  yoke.  Cym.  iii.  5. 

PATRONAGE. 

0  momentary  grace  of  mortal  men, 

Which  we  more  hunt  for  than  the  grace  of  God  1 

R.  III.  iii.  4. 

PAUSING. 

Look,  he  is  winding  up  the  watch  of  his  wit ;  by  and  bj 
it  will  strike.  T.  ii.  1. 

PAYMENT. 

He  is  well  paid,  that  is  well  satisfied.  M.V.  iv.  1, 

Fair  payment  for  foul  words,  is  more  than  due.     L.  L.  iv.  1, 

PEACE. 

Fie,  lords  I  that  you,  being  supreme  magistrates, 
Thus  contumeliously  should  break  the  peace. 

H.  VI.  PT.  i.  i.  3. 
Nothing  but  peace  and  gentle  visitation.  L.  L.  v.  2 

In  her  days,  every  man  shall  eat  in  safety, 
(Jnder  his  own  vine,  what  he  plants  ;  and  sing 
The  merry  songs  of  peace  to  all  his  neighbours. 

j 
m 


PEA       §|iktif*ttffi  Sutiflnarjj.       PEA 

PEACE, — continued. 

Peace  be*^to  France  ;  if  France  in  peace  permit 

Our  just  and  lineal  entrance  to  our  own! 

If  not ;  bleed  France,  and  peace  ascend  to  heaven. 

K.  J.  ii.  1. 

Now  are  our  brows  bound  with  victorious  wreaths ; 
Our  bruised  arms  hung  up  for  monuments ; 
Our  stern  alarums  chang'd  to  merry  meetings, 
Our  dreadful  marches  to  delightful  measures. 
Grim  visag'd  war  hath  smooth'd  his  wrinkled  front ; 
And  now, — instead  of  mounting  barbed  steeds, 
To  fright  the  souls  of  fearful  adversaries, — 
He  capers  nimbly  in  a  lady's  chamber, 
To  the  lascivious  pleasing  of  a  lute.  B.  ILL  i.  1. 

A  peace  is  of  the  nature  of  a  conquest; 

For  then  both  parties  nobly  are  subdued, 

And  neither  party  loser.  H.  IV.  FT.  II.  iv.  2. 

Now  is  the  winter  of  our  discontent 

Made  glorious  summer  by  this  sun  of  York ; 

And  all  the  clouds  that  lower'd  upon  our  house, 

In  the  deep  bosom  of  the  ocean  buried.  R.  IU.  i.  1. 

The  sea  being  smooth, 
How  many  shallow  bauble  boats  dare  sail 
Upon  her  patient  breast,  making  their  way 
With  those  of  nobler  bulk.  T.C.  i.  3 

Keep  peace,  upon  your  lives ; 
He  dies,  that  strikes  again.    What  is  the  matter  ? 

K.  L.  ii.  2. 

If  I  unwittingly,  or  in  my  rage, 
Have  aught  committed  that  is  hardly^  borne 
By  any  in  this  presence,  I  desire 
To  reconcile  me  to  his  friendly  peace : 
'Tis  death  to  me,  to  be  at  enmity ; 
I  hate  it,  and  desire  all  good  men's  love.  R.ni.  ii.  1. 

Who  should  study  to  preserve  a  peace 
If  holy  churchmen  take  delight  in  broils  ? 

H.  VI.  FT.  i.  iii.  1 
Peace  be  to  me,  and  every  one  that  dares  not  fight. 

L.  L.  L  1. 

In  peace,  there's  nothing  so  becomes  a  man, 
As  modest  stillness,  and  humility.  H.  V.  iii.  1. 

What,  drawn,  and  talk  of  peace  ?  R.J.i.1. 

This  peace  is  nothing,  but  to  rust  iron,  increase  tailors, 
»nd  breed  ballad-makers.  C.  iv.  5. 

270 


PEA        IjjnkBsparhu  Sittinuarij. 


PEACE,  —  continued. 

Peace  is  a  very  apoplexy,  lethargy  :  mulled,  deaf,  sleepy, 
insensible.  C.  iv.  5. 

Still,  in  thy  right  hand,  carry  gentle  peace.     H  F777.  iii.  2. 

My  tongue  shall  hush  again  this  storm  of  war, 

And  make  fair  weather  in  your  blust'ring  land.      K  J.  T.  1. 

Thy  threatening  colours  now  wind  up, 

And  tame  the  savage  spirit  of  wild  war  ; 

That,  like  a  lion  foster'd  up  at  hand, 

It  may  lie  gently  at  the  foot  of  peace, 

And  be  no  further  harmful  than  in  show.  K.  /.  v.  2. 

PEDANT. 

Like  a  pedant,  that  keeps  a  school  i'  the  church. 

T.  A.  iii.  2 

PEDANTRY. 

Idle  words,  servants  to  shallow  fools, 

Unprofitable  sounds,  weak  arbitrators  ! 
Busy  yourselves  in  skull-contending  schools  ; 
Debate,  where  leisure  serves,  with  dull  debaters. 

Poems. 

PEDLAR. 

He  hath  ribands  of  all  the  colours  i'  the  rainbow  ;  points 
more  than  all  the  lawyers  in  Bohemia  can  learnedly  handle, 
though  they  come  to  him  by  the  gross  ;  inkles,  caddisses, 
cambrics,  lawns:  why,  he  sings  them  over,  as  they  were 
gods  or  goddesses  ;  you  would  think,  a  smock  were  a  she- 
angel  ;  he  so  chaunts  to  the  sleeve  hand,  and  the  work  about 
the  square  on't.  .  W.  T.  iv.  3. 

PENITENCE. 

By  penitence  the  Eternal's  wrath's  appeas'd.         T.  6.  v.  4. 

The  breath  of  heaven  hath  blown  his  spirit  out, 

And  etrew'd  repentant  ashes  on  his  head.  K.  J.  iv.  1 

PEOPLE. 

The  people  are  the  city.  C.  iii.  1 

PERCEPTION,  HUHAN. 

What  !  are  men  mad  ?     Hath  nature  given  them  eyes, 

To  see  this  vaulted  arch,  and  the  rich  crop 

Of  sea  and  land,  which  can  distinguish  'tvvixt 

The  fiery  orbs  above,  and  the  twinn'd  stones 

Upon  the  unnumber'd  beach  ;  and  can  we  not 

Partition  make,  with  spectacles  so  precious, 

Twixt  fair  and  foul  ?  Cym.  i.  \ 


$JHiku?tftri8i  5ittinnari|.       PER 

PERDITION. 

I'll  be  damned  for  ne'er  a  king's  son  in  Christendom. 

H.  IV.  PT.  i.  i.  2 
0  thou  sun, 

Burn  the  great  sphere  thou  mov'st  in  !  darkling  stand 
The  varying  shore  o'  the  world  1  A.O.  iv.  IS 

PERFECTION. 

More  than  report  can  promise,  fancy  blazon, 

Is  true  perfection.  Poems 

Is  this  your  perfectness  ? — begone,  you  rogue.      L.  L.  y.  2 

,  FEMALE. 

She  that  was  ever  fair,  and  never  proud  ; 
Had  tongue  at  will,  and  yet  was  never  loud ; 
Never  lack'd  gold,  and  yet  went  never  gay  ; 
Fled  from  her  wish,  and  yet  said,  Now  I  may , 
She  that,  being  anger'd,  her  revenge  being  nigh, 
Bade  her  wrong  stay,  and  her  displeasure  fly : 

***** 

She  that  could  think,  and  ne'er  disclose  her  mind, 

See  suitors  following,  and  not  look  behind.  0.  ii.  1 

PERIL. 

Now  happy  he,  whose  cloak  and  cincture  can 

Hold  out  this  tempest.  K.  J.  iv.  3. 

For  mine  own  part,  I  have  not  a  case  of  lives ;  the  humour 
of  it  is  too  hot,  that  is  the  very  plain-song  of  it. 

H.  r.  iu.  2. 
PERJURY. 

Thus  pour  the  stars  down  plagues  for  perjury !     L.  L.  v.  2. 

PERPLEXITY. 

Sure  one  of  you  does  not  serve  heaven  well ;  that  you 
are  so  crossed.  M.  W.  iv.  5. 

PERSECUTION. 

0  God,  defend  me  I  how  am  I  beset  1 

What  kind  of  catechizing  call  you  this  ?  M.  A.  iv.  1. 

Disloyal  ?    No : 

She's  punish'd  for  her  truth  ;  and  undergoes, 
More  goddess-like  than  wife-like,  such  assaults 
As  would  take  in  some  virtue.  Cym.  iii.  2, 

PERSEVERANCE. 

Perseverance,  dear  my  lord, 
Keeps  honour  bright :  To  have  done,  is  to  hang 
Quite  out  of  fashion,  like  a  rusty  mail 
In  monumental  mockery.  T.  C.  Hi.  3 

281  24« 


PER       #j|fllu0juanatt  iitlinnflrtj. 


PERSEVERANCE,—  continued. 

Do  not,  for  one  repulse,  forego  the  purpose 

That  you  resolv'd  to  effect.  T.  iii.  3. 

PERSPECTIVE. 

These  things  seem  small,  and  ^indistinguishable, 

Like  far-off  mountains  turned  into  clouds.  M.  N.  iv.  1 

PERTINACITY. 

Nay,  I  will  ;  that's  flat  : 
lie  said,  he  would  not  ransom  Mortimer  ; 
Forbade  my  tongue  to  speak  of  Mortimer; 
But  I  will  find  him  when  he  lies  asleep, 
And  in  his  ear  I'll  holla,  —  Mortimer  1        H.  IV.  PT.  i.  i.  3. 
Let  them  pull  all  about  mine  ears  ;  present  me 
Death  on  the  wheel,  or  at  wild  horses'  heels  ; 
Or  pile  ten  hills  on  the  Tarpeian  rock, 
That  the  precipitation  might  down  stretch 
Below  the  beam  of  sight,  —  yet  will  I  still 
Be  thus  to  them.  C.  iii.  2. 

You'll  ask  me,  why  I  rather  choose  to  have 
A  weight  of  carrion  flesh,  than  to  receive 
Three  thousand  ducats  :  I'll  not  answer  that  : 
But  say,  it  is  my  humour  ;  Is  it  answered  ?  M.  V.  iv.  1, 

Speak  of  Mortimer  1 

Zounds,  I  will  speak  of  him  :  and  let  my  soul 
Want  mercy,  if  I  do  not  join  with  him  : 
Yea,  on  his  part,  I'll  empty  all  these  veins, 
And  shed  my  dear  blood,  drop  by  drop,  i'  the  dust. 
But  I  will  lift  the  down-trod  Mortimer 
As  high  i'  the  air  as  this  unthankful  king, 
As  this  ingrate  and  canker'd  Bolingbroke.  H.  IV.  PT.  i.  i.  3 

Pent  to  linger 

But  with  a  grain  a  day,  I  would  not  buy 
Their  mercy  at  the  price  of  one  feir  word  ; 
Nor  check  my  courage  for  what  they  can  give, 
To  hav't  with  saying,  —  Good  morrow.  C.  iii.  3 

Nay, 

I'll  have  a  starling  shall  be  taught  to  speak 
Nothing  but  Mortimer,  and  give  it  him, 
To  keep  his  anger  still  in  motion.  H.  IV  PT.  i.  i.  3 

Thou  injurious  tribune  ! 
Within  thine  eyes  sat  twenty  thousand  deaths, 
In  thy  hands  clutch'd  as  many  millions,  in 
Thy  lying  tongue  both  numbers,  I  would  say, 
Thou  liest,  unto  thee,  with  a  voice  as  free 
As  I  do  pray  the  gods.  C.  Iii.  .1 


PER       Ijiabfljuflrinn  Dutiniurq. 


PERTINACITY,—  continued. 

Choler  ! 

Were  I  as  patient  as  the  midnight  sleep, 
Bv  Jove,  'twould  be  my  mind.  G.  iii.  1 

It  nothing  steads  us 
To  chide  him  from  our  eaves. 

PHANTASY. 

This  is  the  very  coinage  of  your  brain  : 

This  bodiless  creation  ecstacy 

Is  very  cunning  in.  H.  iii.  4 

PHILOSOPHY.    PHILOSOPHERS. 

Adversity's  sweet  milk,  philosophy.  B.  J.  iii.  3 

Brave  conquerors,  —  for  so  you  are, 
That  war  against  your  own  affections, 
And  the  huge  army  of  the  world's  desires.  L.  L.i.l, 

Of  your  philosophy  you  make  no  use, 
If  you  give  place  to  accidental  evils.  /.  (7.  iv.  3. 

Blest  are  those, 

Whose  blood  and  judgment  are  so  well  commingled, 
That  they  are  not  a  pipe  for  Fortune's  finger, 
To  sound  what  stop  she  please.  H.  iii.  2. 

Hang  up  philosophy  ! 
Unless  philosophy  can  make  a  Juliet, 
Displant  a  town,  reverse  a  prince's  doom  ; 
It  helps  not,  it  prevails  not,  talk  no  more.  If.  J.  iii.  3. 

For  there  was  never  yet  philosopher, 
That  could  endure  the  tooth-ach  patiently  ; 
However  they  have  writ  the  style  of  gods, 
And  made  a  pish  at  chance  and  sufferance  M.  A.  v.  I 

0,  cry  you  mercy, 

Noble  philosopher,  your  company.  K.  L.  iii.  4. 

First,  let  me  talk  with  this  philosopher  :  — 
What  is  the  cause  of  thunder  ?  K.  L.  iii.  4. 


PRETENDED. 


We  make  trifles  of  terrors ;  ensconcing  ourselves  into 
seeming  knowledge,  when  we  should  submit  ourselves  to 
an  unknown  fear.  A.  W.  ii.  3 

We  have  our  philosophical  persons,  to  make  modern  and 
familiar  things,  supernatural  and  causeless.  A.  W.  ii.  3. 

PHRASES. 

Good  phrases  are  surely,  and  ever  were,  very  commendable 

H.  IV.  PT.  n.  iii.  4. 

The  tevil  and  his  tarn !  what  phrase  is  this  ?          M.  W.  i.  1 


PHY      ijjulUHjuflrinn  Intinnarij.       PIR 

PHYSIC. 

Throw  physio  to  the  dogs,  I'll  none  of  it.  M.  v.  3 

,  STATE. 

If  thou  could'st,  doctor,  cast 
The  water  of  my  land,  find  her  disease, 
And  purge  it  to  a  sound  and  pristine  health, 
I  would  applaud  thee  to  the  very  echo, 
That  should  applaud  again. — Pull't  off,  I  say— 
What  rhubarb,  senna,  or  what  purgative  drug, 
Would  scour  these  English  hence.  M.  v.  3. 

PHYSICIAN. 

Whose  skill  was  almost  as  great  as  his  honesty ;  had  it 
stretched  so  far,  'twould  have  made  Nature  immortal,  and 
Death  should  have  played  for  lack  of  work.  A.  W.  i.  1. 

PHYSIOGNOMY. 

There's  no  art, 

To  find  the  mind's  construction  in  the  face  : 
He  was  a  gentleman  on  whom  I  built 
An  infinite  trust.  M.  i.  1 

PICTURE. 

Come,  draw  this  curtain,  and  let's  see  your  picture. 

T.  G.  iii.  2 
But  we  will  draw  the  curtain,  and  show  you  the  picture. 

T.  N.  i.  5. 

PILGRIMAGE. 

Which  holy  undertaking,  with  most  austere  aanctimony, 
she  accomplished.  A.  W.  iv.  3. 

PIPING  (See  also  TOOL). 

Govern  these  ventages  with  your  fingers  and  thumb,  give 
it  breath  with  your  mouth,  and  it  will  discourse  most 
excellent  music.  //.  iii.  2. 

Why,  look  you  now,  how  unworthy  a  thing  you  make  of 
me.  You  would  play  upon  me ;  you  would  seem  to  know 
my  stops ;  you  would  pluck  out  the  heart  of  my  mystery ; 
you  would  sound  me  from  my  lowest  note  to  the  top  of  my 
compass :  and  there  is  much  music,  excellent  voice,  in  this 
little  organ ;  yet  cannot  you  make  it  speak.  'Sblood,  do 
you  think  I  am  easier  to  be  played  upon  than  a  pipe  ? 

H.  iii.  2. 

PIRATES'  PIKTT. 

Thou  concludest  like  the  sanctimonious  pirate,  that  went 
to  sea  with  the  ten  commandments,  but  scraped  one  out  of 
the  table  :— Thou  shalt  not  steal.  Jf.  M.  \.  2> 

•4 


PIT        ^IjaktfijiEnrinn  Dirtiotiani.        PIT 


PITY. 

Those  that  can  pity,  here 
May,  if  they  think  it  well,  let  fall  a  tear  ; 
Th«  subject  will  deserve  it.  H.  FJZ7.  prologue 

But  if  there  be 

Yet  left  in  heaven  as  small  a  drop  of  pity, 
As  a  wren's  eye,  fearM  gods,  a  part  of  it  1  Cym.  iv.  2 

And  pity,  like  a  naked  new-born  babe, 

Striding  the  blast,  or  heaven's  cherubim,  hors'd 

Upon  the  sightless  couriers  of  the  air, 

Shall  blow  the  horrid  deed  in  every  eye, 

That  tears  shall  drown  the  wind.  M.  i.  7 

It  is  a  pity 

Would  move  a  monster.  H.  VIII.  ii.  3. 

If  ever  you  have  look'd  on  better  days  ; 
If  ever  been  where  bells  have  knoll'd  to  church 
If  ever  sat  at  any  good  man's  feast  ; 
If  ever  from  your  eye-lids  wip'd  a  tear, 
And  know  what  'tis  to  pity  and  be  pitied  ; 
Let  gentleness  my  strong  enforcement  be.  A.Y.  ii.  7. 

A  begging  prince  what  beggar  pities  not?  R.  III.  i.  4 

Had  not  God,  for  some  strong  purpose,  steel'd 

The  hearts  of  men,  they  must  perforce  have  melted, 

And  barbarism  itself  have  pitied  him.  R.  H.  v.  2 

If  thou  tell'st  this  heavy  story  right, 
Upon  my  soul  the  hearers  will  shed  tears  ; 
Yea,  even  my  foes  will  shed  fast  falling  tears, 
And  say,  —  Alas,  it  was  a  piteous  deed  !     H.  VI.  PT.  in.  i.  4. 

I  show  it  most  of  all  when  I  show  justice  ; 

For  then  I  pity  those  I  do  not  know, 

Which  a  dismiss'd  offence  would  after  gall  ; 

And  da  him  right,  that,  answering  one  foul  wrong 

Lives  not  to  act  another.  M.  M.  ii.  2. 

Pity's  sleeping: 

Strange  times,  that  weep  with  laughing,  not  with  weeping  ! 

T.  A.  iv.  3. 

But,  I  perceive, 

Met  must  learn  now  with  pity  to  dispense  ; 
For  policy  sits  above  conscience,  T.  A.  iii.  2. 

The  dint  of  pity.  /.  C.  iii.  2. 

Tear-falling  pity.  R.  III.  iv.  2. 

O  dearest  soul  !  yotfr  cause  doth  strike  my  heart 

With  pity,  that  d:th  make  me  sick.  Gym.  1.7, 


PLA       Ujflbsjinmnn  fiirtinnnrij. 


PLACE  AND  GREATNESS. 

0  place  and  greatneaa,  millions  of  false  eyes 

Are  struck  upon  thee  !  volumes  of  report 

lluii  with  these  false  and  most  contrarious  quests 

Upon  thy  doings  !  thousand  'scapes  of  wit 

Make  thee  the  father  of  their  idle  dreams, 

And  rack  thee  in  their  fancies  !  M.  if  IT,  I, 

PLANETARY  I.YFLUE.VCB. 

This  is  the  excellent  foppery  of  the  world  ;  that,  whec 
we  are  sick  in  fortune,  (often  the  surfeit  of  our  own  beha- 
viour) we  make  guilty  of  our  disasters,  the  sun,  the  moon, 
and  the  stars  :  as  if  we  were  villains  by  necessity  ;  fools, 
by  heaventy  compulsion  ;  knaves,  thieves,  and  treachers, 
by  spherical  predominance  ;  drunkards,  liars,  and  adul- 
terers, by  an  enforced  obedience  of  planetary  influence  ; 
and  all  that  we  are  evil  in,  by  a  divine  thrusting  on  :  An 
admirable  evasion  of  man,  to  lay  his  goatish  disposition  to 
the  charge  of  a  star  !  K.  L.  i.  2. 

Our  remedies  oft  in  ourselves  do  lie, 

Which  we  ascribe  to  heaven  :  the  fated  sky 

Gives  us  free  scope  ;  only,  doth  backward  pull 

Our  slow  designs,  when  we  ourselves  are  dull.      A.  W.  i.  1. 

Men  at  some  time  are  masters  of  their  fates  : 

The  fault,  dear  Brutus,  is  not  in  our  stars, 

But  in  ourselves,  that  we  are  underlings.  J.  O.  i.  2. 

PLAYS.     PLATERS. 

Melancholy  is  the  nurse  of  frenzy, 
Therefore,  they  thought  it  good  you  hear  a  play, 
And  frame  your  mind  to  mirth  and  merriment, 
Which  bars  a  thousand  harms,  and  lengthens  life. 

T.S.  IND.2. 
Is  there  no  play, 
To  ease  the  anguish  of  a  torturing  hour  T  M.  N.  v.  1. 

ShalFs  have  a  play  of  this  ?  Cym.  v.  5. 

What,  a  play  toward  ?     I'll  be  an  auditor.  M.  N.  iii.  1. 

The  play's  the  thing, 

Wherein  I'll  catch  the  conscience  of  the  king.  H.  ii.  2. 

Good,  my  lord,  will  you  see  the  players  well  bestow'd  ? 
Do  you  hear,  let  them  be  well  used  ;  for  they  are  the  ab- 
stract, and  brief  chronicles,  of  the  time  :  After  your  death, 
you  were  better  have  a  bad  epitaph,  than  their  ill  report 
while  you  live.  H.  ii.  2. 

The  players  cannot  keep  counsel  ;  they'll  tell  all.    H.  iii.  2. 
IN 


PLE        Ipabspmtan  iirtinttarq. 

PLEA. 

Since  what  I  am  to  say,  must  be  but  that 

Which  contradicts  my  accusation  ;  and 

The  testimony  on  my  part,  no  other 

But  what  comes  from  myself,  it  shall  scarce  boot  me 

To  say, — Not  Guilty : — mine  integrity 

Being  counted  falsehood,  shall,  as  I  express  it, 

Be  so  receiv'd.     But  thus, — if  powers  divine 

Behold  our  human  actions  (as  they  do) 

I  doubt  not  then,  but  innocence  shall  make 

False  accusation  blush,  and  tyranny 

Tremble  at  patience.  W.T.  iii.  2 

PLEASURE  AND  REVENGE,  RECKLESSNESS  OF. 

Pleasure,  and  revenge, 
Have  ears  more  deaf  than  adders  to  the  voice 
Of  any  true  decision.  2*.  (7.  ii.2. 

PLEDGE. 

My  heart  is  thirsty  for  that  noble  pledge.  J.C.  iv.  3. 

PLODDING. 

Why,  universal  plodding  prisons  up 

The  nimble  spirits  in  the  arteries  ; 

As  motion,  and  long-during  action,  tires 

The  sinewy  vigour  of  the  traveller.  L.  L.  iv.  3 

PLOT. 

By  the  Lord,  our  plot  is  a  good  plot  as  ever  was  laid ; 
our  friends  true  and  constant :  a  good  plot,  good  friends, 
and  full  of  expectation  :  an  excellent  plot,  very  good  friends. 

H.IV.  PT.  i.  ii.?. 

Who  cannot  be  crush'd  with  a  plot!  A.  W.  iv.  3 

So  so ;  these  are  the  limbs  of  the  plot.  H.  VIII.  i.  1, 

PLUNDERERS. 

Hear  me,  you  wrangling  pirates,  that  fall  out 

In  sharing  that  which  you  have  pill'd  from  me.    R.  III.  i.  3 

POETRY.  POET  (See  also  BALLAD-MONGER,  RHYMSTER). 

Our  poesy  is  a  gum,  which  oozes 
From  whence  'tis  nourish'd :  the  fire  i'the  flint 
Shows  not,  till  it  be  struck  ;  our  gentle  flame 
Provokes  itself,  and,  like  the  current,  flies 
Each  bound  it  chafes.  T.  A.  i.  t 

Own'st  thou  the  heavenly  influence  of  the  muse, 
Spend  not  thy  fury  on  some  worthless  song ; 
Park'ning  thy  power  to  lend  base  subjects  light.        Poem* 
287 


POE        fifctifiitiiB  iidinuarij.       POI 

POETRY,  POET,— continued. 

Assist  me,  some  extemporal  god  of  rhyme,  for,  I  am 
sure,  I  shall  turn  sonneteer.  Devise,  wit;  write,  pen  ;  for 
I  am  for  whole  volumes  in  folio.  L.  L.  \.  2. 

The  elegancy,  facility,  and  golden  cadence  of  poesy. 

L.L.  iv.?. 

And  wait  the  season,  and  observe  the  times, 
And  spend  his  prodigal  wits  in  bootless  rhymes.    L.L.  v.  2. 
The  force  of  heaven-bred  poesy.  T.  G.  iii.  *?. 

Audrey.— I  do  not  know  what  poetical  is :  Is  it  honest 
indeed  and  word  ?  Is  it  a  true  thing  ? 

Touchstone. — No,  truly  ;  for  the  truest  poetry  is  the  m  >st 
feigning.  A.  Y.  iii.  3 

POISON. 

Let  me  have 

A  dram  of  poison ;  such  soon-speeding  geer 
As  will  disperse  itself  through  all  the  veins, 
That  the  life-weary  taker  may  fall  dead ; 
And  that  the  trunk  may  be  discharg'd  of  breath 
As  violently,  as  hasty  powder  fir'd 
Doth  hurry  from  the  fatal  cannon's  womb.  R.  J.  v.  1 . 

No  cataplasm  so  rare, 
Collected  from  all  simples  that  have  virtue 
Under  the  moon,  can  save  the  thing  from  death, 
That  is  but  scratch'd  withal.  H.  iv.  7, 

POLICY. 

The  devil  knew  not  what  he  did,  when  he  made  man 
politic.  T.A.  iii.  3. 

Plague  -of  your  policy  1 
You  sent  me  deputy  for  Ireland  ; 
Far  from  his  succour,  from  the  king,  from  all 
That  might  have  mercy  on  the  fault  thou  gav'st  him , 
Whilst  your  great  goodness,  out  of  holy  pity, 
Absolv'd  him  with  an  axe.  H.  VIII.  iii.  2 

POLITICIANS. 

Get  thee  glass  eyes  ; 
And,  like  a  scurvy  politician,  seem 

To  see  the  things  thou  dost  not.  K.  L.  iv.  6. 

They'll  sit  by  the  fire,  and  presume  to  know 
What's  done  i'the  Capitol :  who's  like  to  rise, 
Who  thrives,  and  who  declines ;  side  factions,  and  give  out 
Conjectural  marriages  ;  making  parties  strong, 
And  feebling  such  as  stand  not  in  their  liking, 
Below  their  cobbled  shoes.  (J.  \.  L 

w 


POL       ^jjflktsjiurinn  iirtionanj.        POP 

POLISHED  MAN. 

Behaviour,  what  wert  thou 
Till  this  man  ahowM  thee  ?  and  what  art  thou  now  T 

/  JLy.2. 
POMP. 

Why,  what  is  pomp,  rule,  reign,  but  earth  and  dust  ? 
And,  live  we  how  we  can,  yet  die  we  must. 

H.  VI.  PT.  HI.  v.  2. 

AND  POVERTT. 

Take  physic,  pomp ; 

Expose  thyself  to  feel  what  wretches  feel ; 
That  thou  mayest  shake  the  superflux  to  them, 
And  show  the  heavens  more  just.  K.  L.  iii.  4 

POPULARITY  (See  also  APPLAUSE,  MOB], 

All  tongues  speak  of  him,  and  the  bleared  sights 

Are  spectacled  to  see  him.  C.  ii.  1 . 

Stalls,  bulks,  windows, 

Are  smother'd  up,  leads  fill'd,  and  ridges  hors'd 
With  variable  complexions ;  all  agreeing 
In  earnestness  to  see  him.  C-  ii-  1, 

Had  I  so  lavish  of  my  presence  been, 
So  common  hackney'd  in  the  eyes  of  men 
So  stale  and  cheap  to  vulgar  company ; 
Opinion,  that  did  help  me  to  the  crown. 
Had  still  kept  loyal  to  possession, 
And  left  me  in  reputeless  banishment, 
A  fellow  of  no  mark,  nor  likelihood. 
By  being  seldom  seen,  I  could  not  stir, 
But,  like  a  comet,  I  was  wonder'd  at : 
That  men  would  tell  their  children,  That  is  he ; 
Others  would  say,  Wtiere  ?  which  is  Bolingbroke  t 
And  then  I  stole  all  courtesy  from  heaven, 
And  dress'd  myself  in  such  humility, 
That  I  did  pluck  allegiance  from  men's  hearts, 
Loud  shouts  and  salutations  from  men's  mouths, 
Even  in  the  presence  of  the  crowned  king. 
Thus  did  I  keep  my  person  fresh  and  new ; 
My  presence,  like  a  robe  pontifical, 
Ne'er  seen,  but  wonder'd  at :  and  so  my  state, 
Seldom,  but  sumptuous,  showed  like  a  feast ; 
And  won,  by  rareness,  such  solemnity. 
The  skipping  king,  he  ambled  up  and  down, 
With  shallow  jesters,  and  rash  oavin  wits, 
Soon  kindled,  and  soon  burn'd  :  carded  hig  state : 
Mingled  his  royalty  with  carping  fools  ; 
Had  his  great  name  profaned  with  his  scorns  ; 
And  gave  his  countenance,  against  his  name, 

as»  2* 


POP        IjiafosjiBJiriflii  iirthtiftrtj,       POP 

POPULARITY,— continued. 

To  laugh  at  gibing  boys,  and  stand  the  push 

Of  every  beardless  vain  comparative : 

Grew  a  companion  to  the  common  streets, 

EnfeofFd  himself  to  popularity : 

That  being  daily  swallowed  by  men's  eyes, 

They  surfeited  with  honey ;  and  began 

To  loathe  the  taste  of  sweetness,  whereof  a  little 

More  than  a  little  is  by  much  too  much. 

So,  when  he  had  occasion  to  be  seen, 

He  was  but  as  the  cuckoo  is  in  June, 

Heard,  not  regarded ;  seen,  but  with  such  eyea, 

As,  sick  and  blunted  with  community, 

Afford  no  extraordinary  gaze, 

Such  as  is  bent  on  sun-like  majesty 

When  it  shines  seldom  in  admiring  eyes.    H.  IP".  FT.  I.  iii.  2. 

I  have  seen 

The  dumb  men  throng  to  see  him,  and  the  blind 
To  hear  him  speak :  the  matrons  flung  their  gloves, 
Ladies  and  maids  their  scarfs  and  handkerchiefs, 
Upon  him  as  he  pass'd  :  the  nobles  bended, 
As  to  Jove's  statue ;  and  the  commons  made 
A  shower,  and  thunder,  with  their  caps  and  shouts. 

C.  ii.  1 

He's  lov'd  of  the  distracted  multitude, 

Who  like  not  in  their  judgment,  but  their  eyes  ; 

And,  where  'tis  so,  the  offender's  scourge  is  weigh'd 

But  never  the  offence.  H.  iv.  3. 

He  returns, 
Splitting  the  air  with  noise.  (7.  v.  5. 

It  hath  been  taught  us  from  the  primal  state, 

That  he,  which  is,  was  wish'd  until  he  were ; 

And  the  ebb'd  man,  ne'er  loved,  till  ne'er  worth  love, 

Comes  dear*d  by  being  lack'd.    This  common  body, 

Like  a  vagabond  flag  upon  the  stream, 

Goes  to,  and  back,  lackeying  the  varying  tide, 

To  rot  itself  with  motion.  A.  C.  i.  4 

Such  a  noise  arose 

As  the  shrouds  make  at  sea  in  a  stiff  tempest, 
As  loud,  and  to  as  many  tunes :  hats,  cloaks, 
(Doublets,  I  think,)  flew  up ;  and  had  their  faces 
Been  loose,  this  day  they  had  been  lost.  H.  VIII.  iv.  1 

Every  wretch  pining  and  pale  before, 
Beholding  him,  plucks  comfort  from  bis  looks 
A  largess  universal,  like  the  sun, 


POP        ^ahspmian  iutinnflrt|.       POP 

POPULARITY,— continued. 

Ilia  lib'ral  eve  doth  give  to  every  one, 

Thawing  cold  fear.  H.  V.  iv.  chortu 

Then,  as  I  said,  the  Duke,  great  Bolingbroke, 
Mounted  upon  a  hot  and  fiery  steed, 
Which  his  aspiring  rider  seemed  to  know, 
With  slow,  but  stately  pace,  kept  on  his  course  ; 
While  all  tongues  cry'd, — God  save  thee,  Bolingbroke  I 
You  would  have  thought  the  very  windows  spake 
So  many  greedy  looks  of  young  and  old 
Through  casements  darted  their  desiring  eyes 
Upon  his  visage  ; — and  that  all  the  walls, 
With  painted  imag'ry,  had  said  at  once, — 
JKSU  preserve  thee :  Welcome,  Bolingbroke ! 
Whilst  he,  from  one  side  to  the  other  turning, 
Bare-headed,  lower  than  his  proud  steed's  neck, 
Bespake  them  thus : — I  thank  you,  countrymen ; 
And  thus  still  doing,  thus  he  passed  along.  R.  II.  v.  2. 

If  the  tag-rag  people  did  not  clap  him,  and  hiss  him,  ac- 
cording as  he  pleased,  and  displeased  them,  as  they  use  to 
do  the  players  in  the  theatre,  I  am  no  true  man.  /.  C.  i.  2. 

Marry,  before  he  fell  down  when  he  perceived  the  common 
herd  was  glad  he  refused  the  crown,  he  plucked  me  ope  his 
doublet,  and  offered  them  his  throat  to  cut.  An  I  had 
been  a  man  of  any  occupation,  if  I  would  not  have  taken 
him  at  his  word,  I  would  I  might  go  to  hell,  among  the 
rogues  ; — and  so  he  fell.  When  he  came  to  himself  again, 
ho  said,  If  he  had  done,  or  said,  anything  amiss,  he  desired 
their  worships  to  think  it  was  his  infirmity.  Three  or  four 
wenches,  where  I  stood,  cried,  Alas,  good  soul, — and  forgave 
him  with  all  their  hearts.  J.C.  i  2. 

Since  the  wisdom  of  their  choice,  is  rather  to  have  my 
hat  than  my  heart,  I  will  practise  the  insinuating  nod,  and 
be  off  to  them  most  counterfeitly ;  that  is,  Sir,  I  will  coun- 
terfeit the  bewitchment  of  some  popular  man,  and  give  it 
bountifully  to  the  desirers.  v.  ii.  3. 

The  rabble  call  him  lord : 
And,  as  the  world  were  now  but  to  begin, 
Antiquity  forgot,  custom  not  known, 
The  ratifiers  and  props  of  every  word, 
They  cry, — Choose  we  ;  Laertes  shall  be  king!  H.  IT.  5 

Now,  when  the  lords,  and  barons  of  the  realm, 
PerceivM  Northumberland  did  lean  to  him, 
The  mere  and  less  came  in  with  cap  and  knee  j 
Met  him  in  boroughs,  cities,  villages ; 
Attended  him  on  bridges,  stood  in  lanes, 

m, 


POP        ft^ikflfittiftfi  Dirtinnnrtf.       PO? 

POP  ULARITY,— continued. 

Laid  gifts  before  him,  proffer'd    him  their  oaths, 

Gave  him  their  heirs,  as  pages  follow'd  him, 

Even  at  his  heels,  in  golden  multitudes. 

He  presently, — as  greatness  knows  itself, — 

Steps  me  a  little  higher  than  his  vow 

Made  to  my  father,  while  his  blood  was  poor, 

Upon  the  naked  shore  at  Ravenspurg  ; 

And  now,  forsooth,  takes  on  him  to  reform 

Some  certain  edicts,  and  some  strait  decrees, 

That  lie  too  heavy  on  the  commonwealth : 

Cries  out  upon  abuses,  seems  to  weep 

Over  his  country's  wrongs  ;  and,  by  this  face 

This  seeming  brow  of  justice,  did  he  win 

The  hearts  of  all  that  he  did  angle  for.       H.  IV.  PT.  \.  iv.  3 

You  seo,  how  all  conditions,  how  all  minds, 

(As  well  of  glib  and  slippery  creatures,  as 

Of  grave  and  austere  quality,)  tender  down 

Their  services  to  Lord  Timon ;  his  large  fortune 

Upon  his  good  and  gracious  nature  hanging, 

Subdues  and  properties  to  his  love  and  tendance 

All  sorts  of  hearts.  T.  A.i.l. 

The  wisdom  of  their  choice  is,  rather  to  have  my  ha< 
than  my  heart.  C.  ii.  3 

Ourself 

Observ'd  his  courtship  to  the  common  people : 
How  he  did  seem  to  dive  into  their  hearts, 
With  humble  and  familiar  courtesy ; 
What  reverence  he  did  throw  away  on  slaves  ; 
Wooing  poor  craftsmen  with  the  craft  of  smiles, 
And  patient  underbearing  of  his  fortune, 
As  'twere  to  banish  their  effects  with  him 
Off  goes  his  bonnet  to  an  oyster-wench  ; 
A  brace  of  draymen  bid— God  speed  him  well ! 
And  had  the  tribute  of  his  supple  knee, 
With — Thanks,  my  countrymen,  my  loving  friends. 

R.  II.  i.  4 

Was  ever  feather  BO  lightly  blown  to  and  fro,  as  thit 
multitude  ?  H.  VI.  PT.  n.  iv.  8 

Look,  as  I  blow  this  feather  from  my  face, 
And  as  the  air  blows  it  to  me  again, 
Obeying  with  my  wind  when  I  do  blow, 
And  yielding  to  another  when  it  blows, 
Commanded  always  by  the  greater  gust ; 
Such  is  the  lightness  of  you  common  men. 

H.  VI.  PT  in.  iii.  1 
M 


«>OF       &ljafospmian  iirtimian;.       POP 


POPULARITY,—  continued. 

The  common  people  swarm  like  summer  flies, 
And  whither  fly  the  gnats  but  to  the  sun  ? 

H.  VL  PT.  in.  ii.  6 

The  commonwealth  is  sick  of  their  own  choice, 
Their  over-greedy  love  hath  surfeited  :  — 
A  habitation  giddy  and  unsure 
Hath  he,  that  buildeth  on  the  vulgar  heart. 

0  thou  fond  many  1  with  what  loud  applause 
Didst  thou  beat  heaven  with  blessing  Bolingbroke, 
Before  he  was  what  thou  wouldst  have  him  be  1 
And  being  now  trimm'd  in  thine  own  desires, 
Thou,  beastly  feeder,  art  so  full  of  him, 

That  thou  provok'st  thyself  to  cast  him  up. 

H.  IV.  PT.  ii.  i.  3. 

When  he  had  done,  some  followers  of  mine  own 

At  lower  end  of  the  hall,  hurl'd  up  their  caps, 

And  some  ten  voices  cried,  God  save  King  Kichard  ! 

And  thus  I  took  the  'vantage  of  those  few,  — 

Thanks,  gentle  citizens,  and  friends,  quoth  I  ; 

This  general  applause,  and  cheerful  shout, 

Argues  your  wisdom,  and  your  love  to  Richard  : 

And  even  here  broke  off,  and  came  away.          R.  III.  iii.  7. 

1  had  rather  have  one  scratch  my  head  i'  the  sun, 
When  the  alarum  was  struck,  than  idly  sit 

To  hear  my  nothings  monster'd.  C.  ii.  2. 

Faith,  there  have  been  many  great  men  who  have  flat- 
tered the  people,  who  ne'er  loved  them  ;  and  there  be 
many  that  they  have  lov'd,  they  know  not  wherefore  ;  so 
that,  if  they  love  they  know  not  why,  they  hate  upon  no 
better  ground.  C.  ii.  2. 

I  have  not  stopp'd  mine  ears  to  their  demands, 
Nor  posted  o£F  their  suits  with  slow  delays  ; 
My  pity  hath  been  balm  to  heal  their  wounds, 
My  mildness  hath  allay'd  their  swelling  griefs, 
My  mercy  dried  their  water-flowing  tears  : 
I  have  not  been  desirous  of  their  wealth, 
Nor  much  oppress'd  them  with  great  subsidies, 
Nor  forward  of  revenge,  though  they  much  err^d 
Then  why  should  they  love  Edward  more  than  me  ? 

H.VL  PT.  m.iv.8. 
I  love  the  people, 

But  do  not  like  to  stage  me  to  their  eyes  ; 
Though  it  do  well,  I  do  not  relish  well 
Their  loud  applause,  and  aves  vehement  ; 
Nor  do  I  think  the  man  of  safe  discretion, 
That  does  affect  it.  Jf.JH.il. 

3M  »• 


POP        ^jjakjsparian  iittinnari;.       POR 

POPULARITY,— continued. 

Like  one  of  two  contending  in  a  prize, 

That  thinks  he  hath  done  well  in  people's  eyes, 

Hearing  applause,  and  universal  shout, 

Giddy  in  spirit,  still  gazing  in  a  doubt 

Whether  those  peals  of  praise  be  his  or  no.          M.  V.  iii.  2, 

PORTENTS  (See  also  PRODIGIES). 

The  owl  shriek' d  at  thy  birth,  an  evil  sign ; 

The  night-crow  cried,  aboding  luckless  time ; 

Dogs  howl'd,  and  hideous  tempests  shook  down  trees ; 

The  raven  rooked  her  on  the  chimney  top, 

And  chattering  pies  in  dismal  discord  sung. 

H.  J  /  ft  in  v  6 

Before  the  days  of  change,  still  is  it  so ; 
By  a  divine  instinct,  men's  minds  mistrust 
Ensuing  danger ;  as,  by  proof,  we  see 
The  water  swell  before  a  boist'rous  storm.  R.  IIL  ii.  3. 

When  clouds  are  seen,  wise  men  put  on  their  cloaks  ; 
When  great  leaves  fall,  then  winter  is  at  band ; 
When  the  sun  sets,  who  doth  not  look  for  night  ? 
Untimely  storms  make  men  expect  a  dearth  ?      R.  III.  ii.  3. 

Warnings,  and  portents,  and  evils  ominous.  /.  C.  ii.  2. 

The  southern  wind 

Doth  play  the  trumpet  to  his  purposes  ; 
And,  by  his  hollow  whistling  in  the  leaves, 
Foretells  a  tempest  and  a  blustering  day.    H.IV.  FT.  i.  v.  1 

How  bloodily  the  sun  begins  to  peer 
,    Above  yon  busky  hill  1  the  day  looks  pale 

At  his  distemperature.  H.  IV.  PT.  i.  v.  1 

Truly,  the  hearts  of  men  are  fnll  of  fear : 

You  cannot  reason  almost  with  a  man 

That  looks  not  heavily,  and  full  of  dread.  R,  IIL  ii.  3 

PORTRAIT  (See  also  PAINTING). 

See,  what  a  grace  was  seated  on  this  brow : 

Hyperion's  curls  ;  the  front  of  Jove  himself; 

An  eye  like  Mars  to  threaten  and  command  ; 

A  station,  like  the  herald  Mercury, 

New  lighted  on  a  heaven-kissing  hill 

A  combination,  and  a  form,  indeed, 

Where  every  god  did  seem  to  set  his  seal, 

To  give  the'worid  assurance  of  a  man.  £L  iii.  4 

0  thou  senseless  form, 
Thou  shalt  be  worsnipp'd,  kiss'd,  lov'd,  and  ador'd. 

r.fiUv.t 

M 


FOR       Ijrukjflpumaii  iirtinnarij.       POT 


PORTRAIT,—  continued. 

What  demi-god 

Hati  come  so  near  creation  ?    Move  these  eyes  T 
Or  whether,  riding  on  the  balls  of  mine, 
Seem  they  in  motion  ?     Here  are  severed  lips, 
Parted  with  sugar  breath  ;  so  sweet  a  bar 
Should  sunder  such  sweet  friends  :  Here  in  her  hairs 
The  painter  plays  the  spider  ;  and  hath  woven 
A  golden  mesh  to  entrap  the  hearts  of  men, 
Faster  than  gnats  in  cobwebs  :  But  her  eyes,  — 
How  could  he  see  to  do  them  f  M.  V.  iii.  2, 

The  counterfeit  presentment.  H.  iii.  4. 

POSSESSION. 

Have  is  have,  however  men  do  catch.  K.  J.  i.  1. 

-  AND  DEPRIVATION. 

For  it  so  falls  out, 

That  what  we  have,  we  prize  not  to  the  worth, 
Whiles  we  enjoy  it  ;  but  being  lack'd  and  lost, 
Why,  then  we  rack  the  value  ;  then  we  find 
The  virtue,  that  possession  would  not  show  us 
Whiles  it  was  ours.  M.  A.  iv.  1 

POSTSCRIPT. 

Jove  and  my  stars  be  prais'd,  here  is  yet  a  postscript  I 

T.  N.  ii.  5. 

POVERTY. 

No  matter  what  :  He's  poor,  and  that's  revenge  enough. 

T.  A.  iii.  4. 

Pray  you,  poor  gentleman,  take  up  some  other  station  ; 
here's  no  place  for  you  ;  pray  you,  avoid.  C.  iv.  5. 

As  we  do  turn  our  backs 
From  our  companion,  thrown  into  his  grave  ; 
So  his  familiars  to  his  buried  fortunes 
Slink  all  away  ;  leave  their  false  vows  with  him, 
Like  empty  purses  pick'd  ;  and  his  poor  self, 
A  dedicated  beggar  to  the  air, 
With  his  disease  of  all  shunn'd  poverty, 
Walks,  like  contempt,  alone.  T.  A.  iv.  2. 

Anon,  a  careless  herd 
Full  of   the  pasture,  jumps  along    by  him      Ay,  quoth 

Jaques, 

Sweep  on,  you  fat  and  greasy  citizens  ; 
'Tis  just  the  fashion  :  wherefore  do  you  look 
Upon  that  poor  and  broken  bankrupt  then?  A.  T,  ii.  1 

Art  thou  so  bare,  and  full  of  wretchedness, 
A  nd  fear's  to  die  ?  famine  is  in  thy  cheeks, 
M 


POV       IjjaltBBjuariatt  D  irtinnniij. 


PO  VE  RT  Y,—  continued.  . 

Need  and  oppression  stareth  in  thine  eyes, 

Upon  thy  back  hangs  ragged  misery, 

The  world  is  not  thy  friend,  nor  the  world's  law.  R.  /.  7.  1 

Who  can  speak  broader  than  he  that  has  no  house  to  pui 
his  head  in  ?  —  Such  may  rail  against  great  buildings. 

T.A.  iii.  4. 

Through  tatter'd  clothes  small  vices  do  appear.  K.  L.  iv.  4. 
A  most  poor  man,  made  tame  by  fortune's  blows  ; 
Who,  by  the  art  of  known  and  feeling  sorrows. 
Am  pregnant  to  good  pity.  K.  L.  iv.  G. 

No,  Madam,  'tis  not  so  well  that  I  am  poor  ;  though  many 
of  the  rich  are  damned.  A.  W.  5.  3. 

A  staff  is  quickly  found  to  beat  a  dog.     H.VL  PT.  n.  iii.  1. 
They  say,  poor  suitors  have  strong  breaths.  C.  i.  1. 

POWER. 

0  perilous  mouths, 

That  bear  in  them  one  and  the  self-same  tongue, 
Either  of  condemnation  or  approof  ! 
Bidding  the  law  make  court'sy  to  their  will  ; 
Hooking  both  right  and  wrong  to  the  appetite, 
To  follow  as  it  draws  !  A.  M.  ii.  4. 

We  had  need  pray, 
And  heartily,  for  our  deliverance  ; 
Or  this  imperious  man  will  work  us  all 
From  princes  into  pages  :  all  men's  honours 
Lie  in  one  lump  before  him,  to  be  fashion'd 
Into  what  pitch  he  please.  H.  VIII.  ii.  i. 

In  his  livery 

Walk'd  crowns  and  crownets  ;  realms  and  islands  were 
As  plates  dropp'd  from  his  pocket.  A.  C.  v.  2- 

The  abuse  of  greatness  is,  when  it  disjoins 
Remorse  from  power.  /.  C.  ii.  1  . 

Mortality  and  mercy  in  Vienna 
i         Live  in  thy  tongue  and  heart  M.  M.  i.  1. 

t  RAISE. 

The  worthiness  of  praise  distains  his  worth 
If  that  the  prais'd  himself  bring  the  praise  forth  : 
But  what  the  rip'ning  enemy  commend, 
That  breath  fame  follows  ;  that  praise,  sole  pure,  transcends. 

T.  C.i.  3. 

Great  Timon,  noble,  worthy,  royal  Timon  ! 
Ah  !  when  the  means  are  gone,  that  buy  this  praise, 
The  breath  is  gone  whereof  this  praise  is  made.    T.A.  ii.  2. 

an 


PRA  it*f*&*ui     utnttun.       PRA 


PRAISE,—  continued. 

Do  not  smile  at  me,  that  I  boast  her  off, 

For  thou  shalt  find  she  will  outstrip  all  praise, 

And  make  it  halt  behind  her.  T.  iv.  1. 

You  shall  not  be 

The  grave  of  your  deserving  :  Rome  must  know 
The  value  of  her  own  :  'twere  a  concealment 
Worse  than  a  theft,  no  less  than  a  traducement, 
To  hide  your  doings.  C.  i.  9. 

Cram  us  with  praise,  and  make  us 
As  fat  as  tame  things  :  One  good  deed,  dying  tongueleos, 
Slaughters  a  thousand,  waiting  upon  that  : 
Our  praises  are  our  wages.  W.  T.  i.  9. 

Praising  what  is  lost 

Makes  the  remembrance  dear.  A.  W.  v.  3. 

Cautious  they  praise,  who  purpose  not  to  sell.  Poems. 

To  things  of  sale  a  seller's  praise  belongs.  L.  L.  iv.  3. 

--  AND  CENSURE. 

Marry,  Sir,  they  praise  me  and  make  an  ass  of  me  :  now 
my  foes  tell  me  plainly,  I'm  an  ass  ;  so  that  by  my  foes,  Sir, 
I  profit  in  the  knowledge  of  myself.  T.  N.  T.  1. 

PRAYERS. 

Not  with  fond  shekels  of  the  tested  gold  ; 

Or  stones,  whose  rates  are  either  rich,  or  poor, 

As  fancy  values  them  :  but  with  true  prayers, 

That  shall  be  up  at  heaven  and  enter  there, 

Ere  sun-rise.  M.M.  ii  9, 

We,  ignorant  of  ourselves, 

Beg  often  our  own  harms,  which  the  wise  powers. 
Deny  us  for  our  good  ;  so  find  we  profit 
By  losing  of  our  prayers.  A.  O.  ii.  1. 

When  I  would  pray  and  think,  I  think  and  pray 

To  several  subjects  :  heaven  hath  my  empty  words  ; 

Whilst  my  invention,  hearing  not  my  tongue. 

Anchors  on  Isabel  :  Heaven  in  my  mouth, 

As  if  I  did'but  only  chew  his  name  ; 

And  in  my  heart,  the  strong  and  swelling  evil 

Of  my  conception.  M.  M.  ii.  4 

When  holy  and  devout  religious  men 

Are  at  their  beads,  'tis  hard  to  draw  them  thence, 

So  sweet  is  zealous  contemplation.  R.  HI.  iii.  7 

A  thousand  knees, 

Ten  thousand  years  together,  naked,  fasting, 
Upon  a  barren  mountain,  and  still  winter 

287 


PRA       Ijjaknjirnrinn  SHrttBnanj.        PRK 

?R  AISE,— continued. 

In  storm  perpetual,  could  not  move  the  gods 

To  look  that  way  thou  wert.  W.T.  iii.  2 

I  pray  thee  leave  me  to  myself  to-night ; 

For  I  have  need  of  many  orisons 

To  move  the  heavens  to  pniile  upon  my  state, 

Which,  well  thou  know*st,  is  cross  and  full  of  sin. 

R.J.v,.  3 
Lovers, 

And  men  in  dangerous  bonds,  pray  not  alike.      Cym.  iii.  2, 
Get  him  to  say  his  prayers ;  good  Sir  Toby,  get  him  to  pray. 

T.  N.  iii.  4. 

PREACHING  AND  PRACTICK. 

Fie,  uncle  Beaufort  1  I  have  heard  you  preach, 

That  malice  was  a  great  and  grievous  sin : 

And  will  not  you  maintain  the  thing  you  teach, 

But  prove  a  chief  offender  in  the  same  1     H.  VL  FT.  i.  iii  i. 

PRECIPICE. 

What,  if  it  tempt  you  toward  the  flood,  my  lord, 

Or  to  the  dreadful  summit  of  the  cliff, 

That  beetles  o'er  his  base  into  the  sea  ? 

And  there  assume  some  other  horrible  form, 

Which  might  deprive  your  sovereignty  of  reason, 

And  draw  you  into  madness  ?  think  of  it : 

The  very  place  puts  toys  of  desperation, 

Without  more  motive,  into  every  brain, 

That  looks  so  many  fathoms  to  the  sea, 

And  hears  it  roar  beneath.  H.  i.  4. 

PRECISE  MAN. 

Lord  Angelo  is  precise  ; 
Stand  at  a  guard  with  envy  ;  scarce  confesses 
That  his  bloixl  flows,  or  that  his  appetite 
Is  more  to  bread  than  stone :  Hence  shall  we  see 
If  power  change  purpose,  what  our  seemers  be.     M.  M.  i,  4 

A  man  whose  blood 

Is  very  snow-broth ;  one  who  never  feels 
The  wanton  stings  and  motions  of  the  sense ; 
But  doth  rebate  and  blunt  his  natural  edge 
With  profits  of  the  mind,  study  and  fast.  M.  M.  i.  5 

PRE-EMINENCE 

The  observ'd  of  all  observers.  H.  iii.  I 

PREFERMENT. 

'Tis  the  curse  of  service  ; 
Preferment  gons  by  letter,  and  affection, 


$jfaktsptariaii  iirtiauani.       PRE 

PREFERMENT,— continued. 

Not  by  the  old  gradation,  where  each  second 

Stood  heir  to  the  first  O.  i.  1. 

PREJUDICE. 

Oft  it  chances,  in  particular  men,  • 
That,  for  some  vicious  mole  of  nature  in  them, 
As,  in  their  birth,  (wherein  they  are  not  guilty, 
Since  nature  cannot  choose  its  origin,) 
By  the  o'ergrowth  of  some  complexion, 
Oft  breaking  down  the  pales  and  forts  of  reason; 
Or  by  some  habit,  which  too  much  o'er-leavens 
The  form  of  plausive  manners  ; — that  these  men, — 
Carrying,  I  say,  the  stamp  of  one  defect ; 
Being  nature's  livery,  or  fortune's  star, — 
Their  virtues,  else,  (be  they  as  pure  as  grace, 
As  infinite  as  man  can  undergo,) 
Shall  in  the  general  censure  take  corruption 
From  that  particular  fault :  the  dram  of  base 
Doth  all  the  noble  substance  often  dout, 
To  his  own  scandal.  H.  i.  4 

Which  warp'd  the  line  of  every  other  favour ; 
Soorn'd  a  fair  colour,  or  express'd  it  stolen ; 
Extended  or  contracted  all  proportions, 
To  a  most  hideous  object.  A.  W.  v.  3. 

RELIGIOUS. 

I  am  a  Jew :  Hath  not  a  Jew  eyes  ?  hath  not  a  Jew  hands, 
organs,  dimensions,  senses,  affections,  passions  ?  fed  with 
the  same  food,  hurt  with  the  same  weapons,  subject  to  the 
same  diseases,  healed  by  the  same  means,  warmed  and 
cooled  by  the  same  winter  and  summer,  as  a  Christian  is  ? 
if  you  prick  us,  do  we  not  bleed  ?  if  you  tickle  us,  do  we 
not  laugh  ?  if  you  poison  us,  do  we  not  die  ?  and  if  yoa 
wrong  us,  shall  we  not  revenge  ?  if  we  are  like  you  in  the 
rest,  we  will  resemble  you  in  that.  M.  V.  iii.  1. 

PREPARATION. 

Your  vessels,  and  your  spells,  provide, 

Your  charms,  and  every  thing  beside.  M.  hi.  6. 

PRESENTATION. 

Here's  a  gentleman,  and  a  friend  of  mine.  M.  M.  iii.  2 

PRESENT  PLEASURES  AND  PAINS. 

Each  present  joy  or  sorrow  seems  the  chief. 

PRESUMPTION. 

Inspired  merit  so  by  breath  is  barred : 

It  it  not  so  with  him  that  all  things  known 


PRE       IjjnktBjrenrinn  Dirtinminj.        PRI 

PRESUMPTION,— continued. 

As  'tis  with  us  that  square  our  guess  by  shows  ; 

But  most  it  is  presumption  in  us,  when 

The  help  of  heaven  we  count  the  act  of  men.      A.  W.  ii.  1. 

PRETEXT. 

My  pretext  to  strike  at  him  admits 
A  good  construction.  C.  v.  5, 

PREVARICATION. 

You  boggle  shrewdly,  every  feather  starts  you.     A.  W.  v.  3, 

PRIDE. 

1  do  hate  a  proud  man,  as  I  hate  the  engendering  of  toads. 

T.C.  ii.3. 

0  world,  how  apt  the  poor  are  to  be  proud  1         T.  N,  iii.  4 
He  that  is  proud,  eats  up  himself;  pride  is  his  own  glass, 

his  own  trumpet,  his  own  chronicle  ;  and  whatever  praisea 
itself  but  in  the  deed,  devours  the  deed  in  the  praise. 

T.G.  ii3. 

lie  is  so  plaguy  proud,  that  the  death  tokens  of  it 
Cry, — No  recovery.  T.  O.  ii.  3. 

Harsh  rage, 

Defect  of  manners,  want  of  government, 
Pride,  haughtiness,  opinion,  and  disdain  ; 
The  least  of  which,  haunting  a  nobleman, 
Loseth  men's  hearts.  H.  IV.  PT.  i.  iii.  1 

1  am  too  high-born  to  be  propertyM, 
To  be  a  secondary  at  controul, 

Or  useful  serving-man,  and  instrument, 

To  any  sovereign.  K.  J.  v.  2. 

An  he  be  proud  with  me,  I'll  pheeze  his  pride.      T.  C.  ii.  3. 

I  cannot  tell 

What  heaven  hath  given  him,  let  some  graver  eye 
Pierce  into  that ;  but  I  can  see  his  pride 
Peep  through  each  part  of  him :  Whence  has  he  that  T 
If  not  from  hell,  the  devil  is  a  niggard ; 
Or  has  given  all  before,  and  he  begins 
A  new  hell  m  himself.  H.  FIZZ.  i.  1 

Things  small  as  nothing,  for  request's  sake  only, 
He  makes  important :  Possess'd  he  is  with  greatness ; 
And  speaks  not  to  himself,  but  with  a  pride 
That  quarrels  at  self-breath.  T.  C.  \L  & 

Small  things  make  base  men  proud :  this  villain,  here, 
Being  captain  of  a  pinnace,  threatens  more 
Than  Burgulus,  the  strong  Illyrian  pirate. 

H.  IV.  PT.  II.  IT.  I 

m 


PRI        fjfiktiptiUfti  DniiAEanj.       PRO 

PRIDE,— continued. 

Pride  hath  no  other  glass 
To  show  itself,  but  pride ;  for  supple  knees 
Feed  arrogance,  and  are  the  proud  man's  fees.      T.C.  Hi.  3 

OFFENDED. 

Yes,  lion-sick,  sick  of  proud  heart  :  you  n».y  call  il 
melancholy  if  you  will  favour  the  man ;  but,  by  my  head, 
'tis  pride.  T.C.  ii.3. 

• EATS  UP  GRATITUDE. 

Very  well ;  and  could  be  content  to  give  hiro  good  report 
for't,  but  that  he  pays  himself  with  being  proud.  C.  i.  1. 

PRINCE,  DEGENERATE. 

Shall  the  son  of  England  prove  a  thief,  and  take  purses  1 

U  IV.  PT.I.  ii.4. 

PRISONERS. 

It  is  not  for  prisoners  to  be  too  silent  in  tiwir  words. 

L.L.  i.2. 

PRODIGALITY. 

What  will  this  come  to  ? 

He  commands  us  to  provide,  and  gi^e  praj>*  gifts, 
And  all  out  of  an  empty  coffer ; 
Nor  will  he  know  his  purse  ;  or  yield  we  tnis, 
To  show  him  what  a  beggar  his  heart  is, 
Being  of  no  power  to  make  his  wishes  good ; 
His  promises  fly  so  beyond  his  state, 
That  what  he  speaks  is  all  in  debt,  he  owes 
For  every  word ;  he  is  so  kind,  that  he  now 
Pays  interest  for  it  T.  A.  i.  2. 

«M»DIGIES  (See  also  PORTENTS) 

In  the  most  high  and  palmy  state  of  Rome, 

A  little  ere  the  mightiest  Julius  fell, 

The  graves  stood  tenantless,  and  the  sheeted  dead 

Did  squeak  and  gibber  in  the  Roman  streets.  H.  i.  1, 

Stars  with  trains  of  fire,  and  dews  of  blood, 
Disasters  in  the  sun ;  and  the  moist  star, 
Upon  whose  influence  Neptune's  empire  stands, 
Was  sick  almost  to  doomsday,  with  eclipse.  H.  L 1 

No  natural  exhalation  in  the  sky, 
No  scape  of  nature,  no  distempered  day, 
No  common  wind,  no  customed  event, 
But  they  will  pluck  away  his  natural  cause, 
And  call  them  meteors,  prodigies,  and  signs, 
Abortives,  presages,  and  tongues  of  heaven, 
Plainly  denouncing  vengeance  upon  John. 


PRO       l^aittsjiBanan  iirfinitartj.        PFC 


PRODIGIES,—  continued. 

Fierce  fiery  warriors  fight  upon  the  clouds, 

In  ranks,  and  squadrons,  and  right  form  of  war, 

Which  drizzled  blood  upon  the  capitol  : 

The  noise  of  battle  hurtled  in  the  air, 

Horses  did  neigh,  and  dying  men  did  groan.          /.  C.  ii.  2 

When  beggars  die,  there  are  no  comets  seen  ; 

The  heavens  themselves  blaze  forth  the  death  of  princea. 

J.C.  ii.2 
PROFLIGACY. 

His  rash  fierce  blaze  of  riot  cannot  last  ; 

For  violent  fires  soon  burn  out  themselves  : 

Small  showers  last  long,  but  sudden  storms  are  short  ; 

He  tires  betimes,  that  spurs  too  fast  betimes  ; 

With  eager  feeding  food  doth  choke  the  feeder  : 

Light  vanity,  insatiate  cormorant, 

Consuming  means,  soon  preys  upon  itself.  R.  II.  ii.  1 

PROGNOSTICS. 

Against  ill  chances  men  are  ever  merry, 

But  heaviness  fore-runs  the  good  event.     H.  IV.  PT.  n.  iv.  2. 
PROLIXITY. 

The  date  is  out  of  such  prolixity.  R.  J.  i.  4. 

PROMISES. 

Promising  is  the  very  air  o'  the  time  :  it  opens  the  eyes  of 
expectation  :  performance  is  ever  the  duller  for  his  act  :  and, 
but  in  the  plainer  and  simpler  kind  of  people,  the  deed  is 
quite  out  of  use.  To  promise,  is  most  courtly  and  fashion- 
able ;  performance  is  a  kind  of  will  and  testament,  which 
argues  a  great  sickness  in  his  judgment  that  makes  it. 

T.A.  v.l 

His  promises  were,  as  he  then  was,  mighty  ; 
But  his  performance,  as  he  now  is,  nothing.     H.  VIII.  iv.  2 
I  see,  Sir,  you  are  liberal  in  offers  : 
You  taught  me-first  to  beg  ;  and  now,  methinks, 
You  teach  me  how  a  beggar  should  be  answer'd. 

M.  V.  iv.  1 

Thy  promises  are  like  Adonis'  gardens, 
That  one  day  bloom'd,  and  fruitful  were  the  next. 

H.  VI.  PT.  i.  i.  6 

The  king  is  kind  ;  and,  well  we  know,  the  king 
Knows  at  what  time  to  promise,  when  to  pay. 

H.  IV.  PT.  i.  iv.  3 

PROMOTION. 

Many  so  arrive  at  second  masters,  upon  their  first  lord's 
neck.  T.A.  iv  ? 

m 


PRO        I jjatopnrian  iirtinanrij.       PRO 

PROMPTITUDE. 

Anticipating  time  with  starting  courage.  T.  C.  iv  5. 

For  at  hand, 

Not  trusting  to  this  halting  legate  here, 
Whom  he  hath  used  rather  for  sport  than  need, 
Is  warlike  John.  K.  J.  v.  2, 

PROOF 

Let  the  end  try  the  man.  H.  IV.  PT.  n.  ii.  2. 

Let  proof  speak.  Cym.  iii.  1 

PROPERTY. 

What  judgment  shall  I  dread,  doing  no  wrong? 

You  have  among  you  many  a  purchas'd  slave ; 

Which,  like  your  asses,  and  your  dogs,  and  mules, 

You  use  in  abject,  and  in  slavish  parts, 

Because  you  bought  them :  shall  I  say  to  you, 

Let  them  be  free,  marry  them  to  your  heirs ! 

Why  sweat  they  under  burdens  ?  let  their  beds 

Be  made  as  soft  as  yours,  and  let  their  palates 

Be  season'd  with  such  viands.    You  will  answer, 

The  slaves  are  ours :— so  do  I  answer  you.  M.  V.  iv.  1 

PROPELLING. 

As  doth  a  sail,  fill'd  with  a  fretting  gust, 

Command  an  argosy  to  stem  the  waves.    H.  VI.  PT.  HI.  ii.  6. 

PROSCRIPTION. 

No  port  is  free  ;  no  place, 
That  guard,  and  most  unusual  vigilance, 
Does  not  attend  my  taking.  K.  L.  ii.  3 

PROSECUTOR,  PUBLIC. 

He  puts  transgression  to't.  M.  M.  iii.  2 

PROSPERITY. 

Prosperity's  the  very  bond  of  love ; 

Whose  fresh  complexion,  and  whose  heart  together, 

Affliction  alters.  W.T.  iv.  3 

When  mine  hours 

Were  nice  and  lucky,  men  did  ransom  lives 
Of  me  for  jests.  A.C.  iii.  11. 

PROVERBS. 

Come  hither,  Fabian ;  we'll  whisper  o'er  a  couplet  or  two 
of  most  sage  saws.  T.  N.  iii.  4 

PROVIDENCE,  (See  also  OMNIPOTENCE). 

Our  indiscretion  sometimes  serves  us  well, 
When  our  doep  plots  do  pall :  and  that  should  teach  us, 
308 


PRO       ${jakjs{irimntt  Dirthtinrt;.       PU» 


PROVIDENCE,—  continued. 

There's  a  divinity  that  shapes  our  ends, 

Rough-hew  them  how  we  will.  H.  Y.  2. 

PROVOCATION. 

Have  you  not  set  mine  honour  at  the  stake, 

And  baited  it  with  all  the  unmuzzled  thoughts 

That  tyrannous  heart  can  think?  T.  N.  iii.  1. 

PRODENCE. 

Take  up  this  mangled  matter  at  the  best  : 
Men  do  their  broken  weapons  rather  use 
Than  their  bare  hands.  O.  i.  3 

When  we  mean  to  build, 

We  first  survey  the  plot,  then  draw  the  model  ; 
And  when  wo  see  the  figure  of  the  house, 
Then  must  we  rate  the  cost  of  the  erection  : 
Which  if  we  find  outweighs  ability, 
What  do  we  then  but  draw  anew  the  model 
In  fewer  offices  ;  or,  at  least,  desist 
To  build  at  all  ?     Much  more,  in  this  great  work 
(Which  is  almost  to  pluck  a  kingdom  down, 
And  set  another  up)  should  we  survey 
The  plot  of  situation,  and  the  model  ; 
Consent  upon  a  sure  foundation  ; 
Question  surveyors,  know  our  own  estate, 
How  able  such  a  work  to  undergo, 
To  weigh  against  his  opposite  ;  or  else 
We  fortify  in  paper,  and  in  figures, 

TT     •  il_  "     f  J         f 

Using  the  names  ot  men,  instead  01  men  : 

Like  one,  that  draws  the  model  of  a  house 

Beyond  his  power  to  build  it  ;  who,  half  through, 

Gives  o'er,  and  leaves  his  part-created  cost 

A  naked  subject  to  the  weeping  clouds, 

And  waste  for  churlish  winter's  tyranny.    H.  IV.  PT.  n.  i,  3. 

PRUDERY. 

Dost  thou  think,  because  thou  art  virtuous,  there  shall  be 
no  more  cakes  and  ale  ?  T.  N.  ii.  3. 

PRUNING. 

All  superfluous  branches 
We  lop  away,  that  bearing  boughs  may  live.      R.  II.  iii.  4. 

PURGATORY. 

Doom'd  for  a  certain  time  to  walk  the  night, 

And,  for  the  day,  confin'd  to  fast  in  fires, 

Till  the  foul  crimes,  done  in  my  days  of  nature 

Are  burnt  and  purg'd  away.  H.  i.  5- 

804 


PIR       Ijjakrspnrinn  Sittinnarii.       QUA 

PflRITY 

The  very  ice  of  chastity  is  in  them.  A.  Y.  iii.  4. 

He's  honourable, 
And,  doubling  that,  most  holy.  Cym.  iii.  4. 

Who  can  blot  that  name 
With  any  just  reproach  ?  M.A.  iv.  1. 

PURPOSE. 

In  every  thing,  the  purposs  must  weigh  with  the  folly. 

H.  IV.  PT.  ii.  ii.  2. 

PURSUIT. 

Let  us  score  their  backs, 
And  snatch  'em  up,  as  we  take  hares,  behind : 
'Tis  sport  to  maul  a  runner.  A.C.  iv.  7 

Mount  you,  my  lord,  tow'rd  Berwick  post  amain  ; 
Edward  and  Richard,  like  a  brace  of  greyhounds, 
Having  the  fearful  flying  hare  in  sight, 
With  fiery  eyes,  sparkling  for  very  wrath, 
And  bloody  steel,  grasp'd  in  their  ireful  hands, 
Are  at  our  backs  ;  and  therefore  hence  amain. 

H.VI.  FT.  m.ii.5. 


AND  POSSESSION. 

All  things  that  are 

Are  with  more  spirit  chased  than  enjoyed. 
How  like  a  younker,  or  a  prodigal, 
The  scarfed  bark  puts  from  her  native  bay, 
Hugg'd  and  embraced  by  the  strumpet  wind  1 
How  like  the  prodigal  doth  she  return, 
With  over-weather'd  ribs,  and  ragged  sails, 
Lean,  rent,  and  beggar'd  by  the  strumpet  wind  1    M.  V.  ii.  ft. 

Women  are  angels,  wooing: 
Things  won  are  done,  joy's  soul  lies  in  the  doing : 
That  she  belovM  knows  nought,  that  knows  not  this, — 
Men  prize  the  thing  ungain'd  more  than  it  is.         T.C.  i.  2 


QUALITY. 

The  rich  stream  cf  lords  and  ladies.  H.  VllL  iv.  1. 

She  sweeps  it  through  the  court  with  troops  of  ladies 

H.VI.  PT.  n. L 3. 

What  a  sweep  of  vanity  comes  this  way !  T.  A.L  2. 

80o  20* 


QUA       IjjflkMjuanan  Dirtifluanj.        QUE 

QUARKEL. 

Good  lord  1  what  madness  rules  in  brain-sick  men ; 
When,  for  so  slight  and  frivolous  a  cause, 
Such  factious  emulations  shall  arise  I  H.  VI.  FT.  I.  iv.  1. 

I  remember  a  mass  of  things,  but  nothing  distinctly ;  a 
quarrel,  but  nothing  wherefore.  0.  ii.  3. 

I  heard  the  clink  and  fall  of  swords 
And  Cassio  high  in  oath.  O.  ii.  3. 

Thou !  why  thou  wilt  quarrel  with  a  man  that  hath  a  hair 
more,  or  a  hair  less,  in  his  beard  than  thou  hast.  Thou  wilt 
quarrel  with  a  man  for  cracking  nuts,  having  no  other 
reason,  but  because  thou  hast  hazel  eyes.  R.  J.  iii.  1. 

He'll  be  as  full  of  quarrel  and  offence 
As  my  young  mistress'  dog.  O.  ii.3 

INCIPIENT. 

There  is  division, 

Although  as  yet  the  face  of  it  be  cover'd 
With  mutual  cunning.  K.L.\\i.\. 

I  dare  say 
This  quarrel  will  drink  blood  another  day. 

H.  VI.  FT.  i.  ii.  4. 

QUEEN. 

She  had  all  the  royal  makings  of  a  queen ; 

As  holy  oil,  Edward  Confessor's  crown, 

The  rod,  and  bird  of  peace,  and  all  such  emblems, 

Laid  nobly  on  her.  H.  VIII.  iv.  1 

A  queen  in  jest,  only  to  fill  the  scene.  R.  III.  iv.  4 

MAS. 

0,  then,  I  see,  queen  Mab  hath  been  with  you. 
She  is  the  fairies'  midwife :  and  she  comes 
In  shape  no  bigger  than  an  agate-stone, 
On  the  fore-finger  of  an  alderman, 
Drawn  with  a  team  of  little  atomies 
Athwart  men's  noses  as  they  lie  asleep : 
Her  waggon-spokes  made  of  long  spinners'  legs  ; 
The  cover,  of  the  wings  of  grasshoppers; 
The  traces,  of  the  smallest  spider's  web ; 
The  collars,  of  the  moonshine's  watery  beams : 
Her  whip,  of  crickets'  bone ;  the  lash,  of  film: 
Her  waggoner,  a  small  gray-coated  gnat, 
Not  half  so  big  as  a  round  little  worm 
Prick'd  from  the  lazy  finger  of  a  maid : 
Her  chariot  is  an  empty  hazle-nut, 
Made  by  the  joiner  squirrel,  or  old  grub, 
Time  out  of  mind  the  fairies'  coachmaker*. 
M 


!JjnluB|i*arian  DirttBaarq. 


QUEEN  MAB,  —  continued. 

And  in  this  state  she  gallops,  night  by  night, 

Through  lovers'  brains,  and  then  they  dream  of  love  : 

On  courtiers'  knees,  that  dream  on  court'sies  straight: 

O'er  lawyers'  fingers,  who  straight  dream  on  fees  : 

O'er  ladies'  lips,  who  straight  on  kisses  dream  ; 

Which  oft  the  angry  Mab  with  blisters  plagues, 

Because  their  breaths  with  sweetmeats  tainted  are 

Sometimes  she  gallops  o'er  a  courtier's  nose, 

And  then  dreams  he  of  smelling  out  a  suit  : 

And  sometimes  comes  she  with  a  tithe-pig's  tail, 

Tickling  a  parson's  nose  as  he  lies  asleep, 

Then  dreams  he  of  another  benefice  : 

Sometimes  she  driveth  o'er  a  soldier's  neck, 

And  then  dreams  he  of  cutting  foreign  throats 

Of  breaches,  ambuscadoes,  Spanish  blades, 

Of  healths  five  fathom  deep  ;"  and  then  anon 

Drums  in  his  ear  ;  at  which  he  starts,  and  wakes  ; 

And,  being  thus  frighted,  swears  a  prayer  or  two, 

And  sleeps  again.  R.  J.  i.  4 

QUIBBLING. 

0,  dear  discretion,  how  his  words  are  suited  1 

The  fool  hath  planted  in  his  memory 

An  army  of  good  words  :  and  I  do  know 

A  many  fools,  that  stand  in  better  place, 

Garnish'd  like  him,  that  for  a  tricksy  word 

Defy  the  matter.  M.  V.  iii.  5. 

To  see  this  age  1  A  sentence  is  but  a  cheverill  glove  to 
a  good  wit;  how  quickly  the  wrong  side  may  be  turn'd 
outward  I  T.  N.  iii.  1. 

This  is  a  riddling  merchant  for  the  nonce.   H.  IV.  PT.  i.  ii.  3. 

How  every  fool  can  play  upon  the  word  !  I  think,  the 
lest  grace  of  wit  will  shortly  turn  into  silence  ;  and  dis- 
course grow  commendable  in  none  only  but  parrots. 

M.V.in.5. 

QUICKNESS. 

Jove's  lightnings,  the  precursors 
0*  the  dreadful  thunder-claps,  more  momentary 
And  sight-out-running  were  not.  T.  i.  2. 

QUIPS. 

How  now,  how  now,  mad  wag  ?    What,  in  thy  quips, 
and  thy  quiddities  ?  H.  IV.  PT.  i.  i.  2. 

QUOTING  SCRIPTURE  (See  also  DISSIMULATION,  HTPOCRISF). 
But  then  I  sigh,  and,  cvith  a  piece  of  scripture, 
Tell  them,  —  that  God  bids  us  do  good  for  evil. 


QUO       &JjalUB|iJimatt  iittiomin|.      RAQ 

QUOTING  SCBIPTUITC,— continued. 

And  thus  I  clothe  my  naked  villany 

With  old  odd  ends,  stol'n  forth  of  holy  writ ; 

And  seem  a  saint  when  most  I  play  the  devil.     R.  111.  i.  3 

In  religion, 

What  damned  error,  but  some  sober  brow 
Will  bless  it,  and  approve  it  with  a  text, 
Hiding  the  grossness  with  fair  ornament  ?  M.  V.  iii.  2. 

The  devil  can  cite  scripture  for  his  purpose. 

An  evil  soul,  producing  holy  witness, 

Is  like  a  villain  with  a  smiling  cheek ; 

A  goodly  apple  rotten  at  the  heart : 

0,  what  a  goodly  outside  falsehood  hath !  M.  V.  i.  3. 

0  thou  hast  damnable  iteration ;  and  art,  indeed,  able  to 
corrupt  a  saint  II.  IV:  FT.  i.  i.  2. 


H 

RABBLE. 

These  are  the  youths  that  thunder  at  a  play-house,  and 
fight  for  bitten  apples.  H.  VHL  v.  3. 

The  cankers  of  a  calm  world.  H.  IV.  FT.  i.  iv.  2. 

I'll  not  march  through  Coventry  with  them,  that's  flat. 

H.IV.  PT.I.  iv.2, 

RADIANCE. 

Like  the  wreath  of  radiant  fire 
On  flickering  Phoebus'  front.  K.  L.  ii.  2. 

RAGE  (See  also  ANGER,  FURY). 

Eyeless  rage.  K.  L.  iii.  1. 

Lost  in  the  labyrinth  of  thy  fury.  T.  C.  ii.  3. 

He's  in  his  fit  now,  and  does  not  talk  after  the  wisest. 

T.  ii.  2, 

In  rage,  deaf  as  the  sea,  hasty  as  fire.  R.  II.  i.  1. 

Darkness  and  devils ! 
Saddle  my  horses  ;  call  my  train  together.  K.  L.  i.  4 

When  one  so  great  begins  to  rage,  he's  hunted 

Even  to  falling.  A.C.iv.l. 

The  fiery  Tybalt,  with  his  sword  prepar'd ; 

Which,  as  he  breath'd  defiance  to  my  ears, 

He  swung  about  his  head,  and  cut  the  winds, 

Who,  nothing  hurt  withal,  hiss'd  him  in  scorn.       R.  J.  i.  1 


RAI        Ijjakrsjifflriiin  9hHitat$       RAI 

RAILING 

Did  you  ever  hear  such  railing?  A.T.  iv.  3. 

Why,  what  a  monstrous  fellow  art  thou,  thus  to  rail  OB 
one,  that  is  neither  known  of  thee,  nor  knows  thee. 

KL.  ii.2. 

Why,  what  an  ass  am  I ! — This  is  most  brave  ; 
That  I,  the  son  of  a  dear  father,  murder'd, 
Prompted  to  ray  revenge  by  heaven  and  hell, 
Must,  like  a  whore,  unpack  my  heart  with  words, 
And  fall  a  cursing,  like  a  very  drab, 
A  scullion !  11.  ii.  2. 

I  shall  sooner  rail  thee  into  wit  and  holiness;  but,  I 
think,  thy  horse  will  sooner  con  an  oration,  than  thou  learn 
a  prayer  without  book.  T.  C.  ii.  1. 

Rails  on  our  little  state  of  war 
Bold  as  an  oracle  :  and  sets  Thersites, 
(A  slave,  whose  gall  coins  slander  like  a  mint,) 
To  match  us  in  comparisons  with  dirt.  21  C.  i.  3. 

— — —  AND  REPROOF,  WHEN  WORTHY,  OR  UNWORTHY,  OF  REGARD. 
There  is  no  slander  in  an  allowed  fool,  though  he  do  no- 
thing but  rail ;  nor  no  railing  in  a  known  discreet  man, 
though  he  do  nothing  but  reprove.  T,  N.  i.  5. 

RAILLERY. 

We  may  carry  it  thus  for  our  pleasure,  and  his  penance, 
till  our  very  pastime,  tired  out  of  breath,  prompt  us  to 
have  mercy  on  him.  T.  N.  iii.  4 

RALLYING,  IN  BATTLE. 

With  their  own  nobleness  (which  could  have  turn'd 

A  distaff  to  a  lance,)  gilded  pale  looks, 

Part,  shame,  part,  spirit  renewed  ;  that  some,  tnrn'd  coward 

But  by  example  (0,  a  sin  in  war, 

Damn'd  in  the  first  beginners!)  'gan  to  look 

The  way  that  they  did,  and  to  grin  like  lions 

Upon  the  pikes  o'  the  hunters.     Then  began 

A  stop  i'  the  chaser,  a  retire ;  anon, 

A  rout,  confusion  thick :  Forthwith  they  fly 

Chickens,  the  way  which  they  stoop'd  eagles  ;  slaves 

The  strides  of  victors  made  ;  and  now  our  cowards 

(Like  fragments  in  hard  voyages)  became 

The  life  o'  the  need ;  having  found  the  back-door  open 

Of  the  unguarded  hearts,  Heavens,  how  they  wound  ! 

Some,  slain  before;  some,  dying;  some,  their  friends 

O'erborne  i'  the  former  wave :  ten,  chas'd  by  one, 

Are  now  each  one  the  slaughter-man  of  twenty.    Gym,  v.  3 


RAN      $|6ktipmiftn  iirtinuflrtj. 


RANCOUR. 

We  have  been  down  together  in  my  sleep, 

Unbuckling  helms,  fisting  each  other's  throat, 

And  wak'd  half  dead  with  nothing.  C.  iv.  5 

RANT. 

Nay,  an'  thou'lt  mouth, 
I'll  rant  as  well  as  thou  //.  v.  1, 

RAT. 

How  now  ?  a  rat  I  II.  iii.  4, 

READER.  ' 

How  well  he's  read,  to  reason  against  reading  !      L.  L.  \.  1 

READINESS. 

Here,  man,  I  am  at  thy  elbow.  M.  A.  iii.  3 

REALITY. 

'Tis  in  grain,  Sir  ;  'twill  endure  wind  and  weather. 

T.  N.  1  4 

REASON. 

What  is  a  man, 

If  his  chief  good,  and  market  of  his  time, 
Be  but  to  sleep  and  feed  ?  a  beast,  no  more. 
Sure,  He,  that  made  us  with  such  large  discourse, 
Looking  before,  and  after,  gave  us  not 
That  capability  and  god-like  reason, 
To  rust  in  us  unus'd.  H.  iv.  4. 

If  the  balance  of  our  lives  had  not  one  scale  of  reason  to 
poise  another  of  sensuality,  the  blood  and  baseness  of  our 
natures  would  conduct  us  to  most  preposterous  conclusions. 

0.  i.  3. 

Strong  reasons  make  strong  actions.  K.  J.  iii.  4. 

Good  reasons  must,  of  force,  give  place  to  better.   J.C.  iv.3. 
The  reasons  you  allege,  do  more  conduce 
To  the  hot  passion  of  distemper'd  blood. 
Than  to  make  up  a  free  determination 
'Twist  right  and  wrong.  T.  C.  ii.  2. 

Nay,  if  we  talk  of  reason, 

Let's  shut  our  gates,  and  sleep  :  Manhood  and  honour 
Should  have  hare  hearts,  would  they  but  fat  their  thoughts 
With  this  cramm'd  reason  :  reason  and  respect 
Make  Hvers  pale,  and  lustihood  deject.  T.  C.  ii.  2 

Larded  with  many  several  sorts  of  reasons.  H.  v.  4 

You  fur  your  gloves  with  reason  :  here  are  your  reasons  .• 
You  know  an  enemy  intends  you  harm  : 
3W 


REA       ^Jjaktfiptfirtaii  Sirtinnanj.       RUB 


RE  A  SON,—  continued. 

You  know  a  sword  employ'd  is  perilous  ; 
And  reason  flies  the  object  of  all  barm.  T.  C.  ii.  2 

No  marvel,  though  you  bite  so  sharp  at  reasons, 
You  are  so  empty  of  them.  T.  C.  ii.  2. 

Give  you  a  reason  on  compulsion!  if  reasons  were  aa 
plenty  as  blackberries,  I  would  give  no  man  a  reason  on 
compulsion.  H.  IV.  PT.  i.  ii.  4. 

I  have  no  exquisite  reason  for't,  but  I  have  reason  good 
enough.  T.  N.  ii.  3. 

REBEL. 

An  exhal'd  meteor, 
A  prodigy  of  fear,  and  a  portent 
Of  broached  mischief  to  the  unborn  times.  H.  IV.  PT.  i.  v.  1 

REBELLION. 

Hear  me  more  plainly. 
I  have  in  equal  balance  justly  weigh'd, 
What  wrongs  our  arms  may  do,  what  wrongs  we  suffor, 
And  find  our  griefs  heavier  than  our  offences. 
We  see  which  way  the  stream  of  time  doth  run, 
And  are  enforc'd  from  our  most  quiet  sphere 
By  the  rough  torrent  of  occasion  : 
And  have  the  summary  of  all  our  griefs, 
When  time  shall  serve,  to  show  in  articles  : 
Which,  long  ere  this,  we  offer'd  to  the  king; 
And  might  by  no  suit  gain  our  audience  : 
When  we  are  wrong'd,  and  would  unfold  our  griefs, 
We  are  denied  access  unto  his  person, 
Even  by  those  men  who  most  have  done  us  wrong. 
The  dangers  of  the  days  but  newly  gone, 
(Whose  memory  is  written  on  the  earth 
With  yet-appearing  blood,)  and  the  examples 
Of  every  minute's  instance,  (present  now,) 
Have  put  us  in  these  ill-beseeming  arms  : 
Not  to  break  peace,  or  any  branch  of  it  ; 
But  to  establish  here  a  peace  indeed, 

.     Concurring  both  in  name  and  quality.      H.1V.  PT.  ii.  iv.  1 
Now  let  it  work  :  Mischief,  thou  art  afoot, 
Take  thou  what  course  thou  wilt.  /.  C.  iii.  2 

If  that  rebellion 

Came  like  itself,  in  base  and  abject  routs, 
Led  on  by  bloody  youth,  guarded  with  rage, 
And  countenanc'd  by  boys,  and  beggary  ; 
You,  reverend  father,  and  these  noble  lords, 
Had  not  been  here,  to  dross  the  ugly  form 
Of  base  and  bloody  insurrection.  H.  IF,  PT.  n.  it,  1 

ttl 


&EB        Ijjalusjunriiut  DirtiDtianj.       REB 

REBELLION,— continued. 

0  pity,  God,  this  miserable  age  ! — 

What  stratagems,  how  fell,  how  butcherly, 

Erroneous,  mutinous,  and  unnatural, 

This  deadly  quarrel  daily  doth  beget.       H.  VI.  PT.  in.  ii.  5. 

But  now  the  Bishop 
Turns  insurrection  to  religion : 
Suppos'd  sincere  and  holy  in  his  thoughts, 
He's  follow'd  both  with  body  and  with  mind.  H.  IV.  PT.  n.  i.  L 

What  rein  can  hold  licentious  wickedness, 

When  down  the  hill  he  holds  his  fierce  career? 

We  may  as  bootless  spend  our  vain  command 

Upon  th'  enraged  soldiers  in  their  spoil, 

As  send  precepts  to  the  Leviathan 

To  come  ashore.  ff.  V.  iii.  3. 

You,  lord  Archbishop, — 
Whose  see  is  by  a  civil  peace  maimam'd ; 
Whose  beard  the  silver  hand  of  peace  hath  touch'd  ; 
Whose  learning  and  good  letters  peace  hath  tutor'd ; 
Whose  white  investments  figure  innocence, 
The  dove  and  very  blessed  spirit  of  peace, — 
Wherefore  do  you  so  ill  translate  yourself, 
Out  of  the  speech  of  peace,  that  bears  such  grace, 
Into  the  harsh  and  boist'rous  tongue  of  war  ? 
Turning  your  books  to  graves,  your  ink  to  blood, 
Your  pens  to  lances :  and  your  tongue  divine 
To  a  loud  trumpet,  and  a  point  of  war?    H.  IV.  PT.  n.  iv.  1 

The  rebels  are  in  Southwark  ;  Fly,  my  lord  I 

Jack  Cade  proclaims  himself  Lord  Mortimer, 

Descended  from  the  Duke  of  Clarence'  house, 

And  calls  your  grace  usurper,  openly, 

And  vows  to  crown  himself  in  Westminster. 

His  army  is  a  ragged  multitude 

Of  hinds  and  peasants,  rude  and  merciless : 

Sir  Humphrey  Stafford,  and  his  brothers'  death, 

Hath  given  them  heart  and  courage  to  proceed  : 

All  scholars,  lawyers,  courtiers,  gentlemen, 

They  call — false  caterpillars,  and  intend  their  death. 

H.VI.  PT.  n. iv.  4 

Noble  English,  you  are  bought  and  sold ; 
Unthread  the  rude  eye  of  rebellion, 
And  welcome  home  again  discarded  faith.  K.  J.  t  4 

All  the  regions 

Do  smilingly  revolt ;  and,  who  resist, 
Are  only  mock'd  for  valiant  ignorance, 
And  perish  constant  fools.  C.  ir  \ 

314 


REB        $|*ktsptadfl*  DirtiDnart|.       REO 


REBELLION,  —  continued. 

My  lord,  your  son  had  only  but  the  corps, 

But  shadows,  and  the  shows  of  men,  to  fight  • 

For  that  same  word,  rebellion,  did  divide 

The  action  of  their  bodies  from  their  souls  ; 

And  they  did  fight  with  queasiness,  constrain'd 

As  men  drink  potions  ;  that  their  weapons  only 

Seem'd  on  our  side,  but  for  their  spirits  and  souls, 

This  word,  rebellion,  it  had  froze  them  up, 

As  fish  are  in  a  pond.  H.  IV.  PT.  u,  i.  L 

Suffer  it,  and  live  with  such  as  cannot  rule, 

Nor  ever  will  be  rul'd.  C.  iii.  1. 

Wherefore  do  I  this  ?  so  the  question  stands. 
Briefly  to  this  end:  —  We  are  all  diseas'd  ; 
And  with  our  surfeiting,  and  wanton  hours, 
Have  brought  ourselves  into  a  burning  fever, 
And  we  must  bleed  for  it  :  of  which  disease, 
Our  late  king,  Richard,  being  infected,  died. 

H.  IV.  PT.  n.  h.  1. 

You  may  as  well 

Strike  at  the  heaven  with  your  staves,  as  lift  them 
Against  the  Roman  state  ;  whose  course  will  <m 
The  way  it  takes,  cracking  ten  thousand  curbs 
Of  more  strong  link  asunder,  than  can  ever 
Appear  in  your  impediment.  C.  i.  1. 

No  kind  of  traffic 

Would  I  admit  ;  no  name  of  magistrate  ; 
Letters  should  not  be  known  :  riches,  poverty, 
An<*  "ise  of  service,  none  ;  contract,  succession, 
Bourn,  bound  of  land,  tilth,  vineyard,  none.  T.  ii.  1. 

Abate  the  edge  of  traitors,  gracious  Lord, 

That  would  reduce  these  bloody  days  again, 

And  make  poor  England  weep  in  streams  of  blood. 

R.  HI.  v.  4 

RECITATION  (See  also  SPEECH). 

'Fore  God,  my  lord,  well  spoken  ;  with  good  accent,  and 
good  discretion.  3.  ii.  2. 

We'll  have  a  speech  straight  :  Come,  give  us  a  taste  of 
your  quality  ;  come,  a  passionate  speech.  H.  ii.  2 

RECKONING. 

I  am  ill  at  reckoning,  it  fitteth  the  spirit  of  a  tapster. 

L.  L.  i.  2. 

0  Lord,  Sir,  it  were  a  pity  you  should  pet  your  living  bt 
reckoning,  Sir.  L.  L.  T.  2 


BEC       Ijjflbflpariun  iirtinnnnj.       REO 

RECOGNITION. 

Most  reverend  eignior,  do  you  know  my  voice  ?  0.  i.  1 

Long  is  it  since  I  saw  him, 

But  time  hath  nothing  blurr'd  those  lines  of  favour, 
Which  then  he  wore.  Cym.  iv.  2. 

Can  virtue  hide  itself?  Go  to  mum,  you  are  he  ;  grace* 
will  appear,  and  there's  an  end.  M.  A.  ii.  1. 

RECOLLECTION,  PAINFUL. 

0,  it  comes  o'er  my  memory, 
As  doth  the  raven  o'er  the  infected  house, 
Boding  to  all.  0.  iv.  1. 

KECOMPENCE. 

Praise  us  as  we  are  tasted,  allow  us  as  we  prove. 

T.C,  iii.  2. 

RECOVERY. 

This  feather  stirs ;  she  lives !  if  it  be  so, 

It  is  a  chance  that  does  redeem  all  sorrows 

That  ever  I  have  felt.  K.  L.  v.  3. 

RECREATION. 

Sweet  recreation  barrM,  what  doth  ensue, 

But  moody  and  dull  melancholy. 

(Kinsman  to  grim  and  comfortless  despair,) 

And,  at  her  heels,  a  huge  infectious  troop 

Of  pale  distemperatures,  and  foes  to  life  ? 

In  food,  in  sport,  and  life-preserving  rest 

To  be  disturb'd,  would  mad  or  man,  or  beast.       C.  E.v.l, 

RECREANT  SLAVE. 

Yet  I  am  thankful :  if  my  heart  were  great, 

'Twould  burst  at  this :  Captain,  I'll  be  no  more  ; 

But  I  will  eat  and  drink,  and  sleep  as  soft 

As  captain  shall :  simply  the  thing  I  am 

Shall  make  me  live.     Who  knows  himself  a  braggart, 

Let  him  fear  this ;  for  it  will  come  to  pass, 

That  every  braggart  shall  be  found  an  ass : 

Rust,  sword !  cool,  blushes  I  and,  Parolles,  live  ! 

Safest  in  shame !  being  fool'd,  by  foolery  thrive  1 

There's  place,  and  means,  for  every  man  olive.    A.  W.  iv.  3. 

RECRUIT. 

In  vsry  truth,  Sir,  I  had  as  lief  be  hanged,  Sir,  as  go  ; 
and  yet,  for  mine  own  part,  Sir,  I  do  not  care  ;  but  rather, 
because  I  am  unwilling,  and,  for  mine  own  part,  I  have  a 
desire  to  stay  with  my  friends  ;  else,  Sir,  I  did  not  care,  foi 
mine  own  part,  so  much.  H,  IV.  FT.  n.  iii  4 

|U 


KEF       i^aktlptario  Dhthnnnj.       REQ 

REFINEMENT. 

By  the  lord,  Horatio,  these  three  years  I  have  taken 
notice  of  it ;  the  age  is  grown  so  picked,  that  the  toe  of  the 
peasant  comes  so  near  the  heel  of  the  courtier,  that  he  galls 
his  kibe.  H.  v.  L 

I  will  be  proud,  I  will  read  politic  tuthors,  I  will  baffle 
Sir  Toby,  I  will  wash  off  gross  acquaintance,  I  will  be 
point-device,  the  very  man.  T.  N.  ii.  5. 

REFORM. 

God  amend  us,  God  amend  !  we  are  much  out  o'  the  way. 

L.  L.  iv.  3. 

Consideration  like  an  angel  came, 
And  whipp'd  the  offending  Adam  out  of  him 
Leaving  his  body  as  a  paradise, 
To  envelop  and  contain  celestial  spirits.  H.  V.  i.  1. 

The  shame  itself  doth  speak 

For  instant  remedy.  K.  L.  i.  4. 

My  reformation,  glittering  o'er  my  fault, 
Shall  show  more  goodly,  and  attract  more  eyes, 
Than  that  which  hath  no  foil  to  set  it  off. 

H.  IV.  PT.  i.  i.  2. 

I  tell  thee,  Jack  Cade,  the  clothier,  means  to  dress  the 
commonwealth,  and  turn  it,  and  set  a  new  nap  upon  it. 

H.  VI.  PT.  ii.  iv.  2. 

I  must  give  over  this  life,  and  I  will  give  it  over ;  by  the 
Lord,  an  I  do  not,  I  am  a  villain.  H.  IV.  PT.  i.  i.  2. 

REGAL- CEREMONIES  (See  also  CEREMONY). 

This  gentle  and  unforc'd  accord  of  Hamlet 

Sits  smiling  to  my  heart ;  in  grace  whereof, 

No  jocound  health,  that  Denmark  drinks  to-day, 

But  the  great  cannon  to  the  clouds  shall  tell ; 

And  the  king's  rouse  the  heaven  shall  bruit  again, 

Respeaking  earthly  thunder.  H.  i.  2. 

As  he  drains  his  draughts  of  Rhenish  down, 
The  kettle-drum  and  trumpet  thus  bray  out, 
The  triumph  of  his  pledge.  H.  i.  4 

There  roar'd  the  sea,  and  trumpet-clangour  sounds. 

H.IV.  PT.H.  i  5 

The  king  shall  drink  to  Hamlet's  better  breath ; 
And  in  the  cup  an  union  shall  he  throw 
Richer  than  that  which  four  successive  kings 
In  Denmark's  crown  have  worn  ;— Give  me  the  cup* 
And  let  the  kettle  to  the  trumpet  speak 
The  trumpet  to  the  cannoneer  without 


REG       IjjnkfSjimiaii  Kutiuuanj.       REG 

REGAL  CEREMONIES, — continued. 

The  cannons  to  the  heavens,  the  heavens  to  earth, 

Now  the  king  drinks  to  Hamlet.  H.  T.  5. 

A  garish  flag, 

To  be  the  aim  of  every  dangerous  shot : 
A  sign  of  dignity,  a  breath,  a  bubble.  M.  III.  iv.  L 

The  flattering  index  of  a  direful  pageant, 

One  heav'd  a  high,  to  be  hurl'd  down  below.      B.  III.  iv.  4. 

— • —  ILL-TIMED. 

In  this,  the  antique  and  well  noted  face 

Of  plain  old  form  is  much  disfigured : 

And,  like  a  shifted  wind  unto  a  sail, 

It  makes  the  course  of  thought  to  fetch  about: 

Startles  and  frights  consideration ; 

Makes  sound  opinion  sick,  and  truth  suspected, 

For  putting  on  so  new  a  fashion'd  robe.  K.  J.  iv.  '2 

REGARD. 

Those  that  I  reverence,  those  I  fear ;  the  wise : 

At  fools  I  laugh,  not  fear  them.  Cym.  iv.  2. 

Why,  he  is  so  made  on  here  within,  as  if  he  were  son  and 
heir  to  Mars :  set  at  upper  end  o'  the  table  :  no  questions 
asked  him  by  any  of  the  senators,  but  they  stand  bald  be- 
fore him.  C.  iv.  5. 

Our  general  himself  makes  a  mistress  of  him ;  sanctifies 
himself  with 's  hand,  and  turns  up  the  white  o'  the  eye  to  hia 
discourse.  C.  iv.  5 


DEVOTIONAL. 


I  hold  you  as  a  thing  enskied,  and  sainted  ; 

*  *  *        an  immortal  spirit ; 

And  to  be  talk'd  with  in  sincerity 

As  with  a  saint.  M.  M.  i.  5 

REGICIDE. 

To  do  this  deed, 

Promotion  follows  :  If  I  could  find  example 
Of  thousands,  that  had  struck  anointed  kings, 
And  flourished  after,  I'd  not  do't :  but  since 
Nor  brass,  nor  stone,  nor  parchment,  bears  not  one, 
Let  villainy  itself  forswear't.  W. T  i.2 

As  full  of  valour  as  of  royal  blood : 
Both  have  I  spilt;  0,  would  the  deed  were  good! 
For  now  the  devil,  that  told  me,— I  did  well, 
Says,  that  this  deed  is  chronicled  in  hell.  R.  II.  v.  6 

If  it  were  done,  when  'tis  done,  then  'twere  well 
it  were  dono  quickly  :  If  the  assassination 
IH 


REG        &|nk  tprcrtan  DirHonnnj.       REM 


Could  trammel  up  the  consequence,  and  catch, 

With  his  surcease,  success  ;  that  but  this  blow 

Might  be  the  be-all  and  the  end-all  ;  here, 

But  here,  upon  this  bank  and  shoal  of  time,  — 

We'd  jump  the  life  to  come.  —  But  in  these  cases, 

We  still  have  judgment  here  ;  that  we  but  teach 

Bloody  instructions,  which,  being  taught,  return 

To  plague  th'  inventor  :  This  even  handed  justice 

Commends  the  ingredients  of  our  poison'd  chalice 

To  our  own  lips.     He's  here  in  double  trust  ; 

First,  as  I  am  his  kinsman  and  his  subject, 

Strong  both  against  the  deed  ;  then,  as  his  host, 

Who  should  against  his  murderer  shut  the  door, 

Not  bear  the  knife  myself.     Besides,  this  Duncan 

Hath  borne  his  faculties  so  meek,  hath  been 

So  clear  in  his  great  office,  that  his  virtues 

Will  plead  like  angels,  trumpet-tongued,  against 

The  deep  damnation  of  his  taking  off: 

And  pity,  like  a  naked  new-born  babe, 

Striding  the  blast,  or  heaven's  cherubim,  hors'd 

Upon  the  sightless  couriers  of  the  air, 

Shall  blow  the  horrid  deed  in  every  eye, 

That  tears  shall  drown  the  wind.  —  I  have  no  spur 

To  prick  the  sides  of  my  intent,  but  only 

Vaulting  ambition,  whicb  o'erleaps  itself, 

And  falls  on  t'other  side.  M.  i.  7 


REGRET. 

I  had  rather 

Have  skipp'd  from  sixteen  years  of  age  to  sixty, 
To  have  turn'd  my  leaping  time  into  a  crutch, 
Than  have  seen  this.  Cym.  IT.  2. 

RELATION. 

A  little  more  than  kin,  and  less  than  kind.  H.  i.  2. 

RELIGION  (See  also  DISSIMULATION,  HYPOCRISY,  QUOTING  SCRIP- 

TURE). 
It  is  religion  that  doth  make  vows  kept.  A*.  J.  iii.  1. 

I  see  you  have  some  religion  in  you  that  you  fear. 

Cym.  i.  5 

REMEDIES. 

Things  without  remedy 
Should  be  without  regard.  M.  iii.  2 

Well  of  that  remedy  can  no  man  speak, 

That  heals  the  loss,  ani  cures  not  the  disgrace,          Poem* 

317  *. 


REM       £jjakJBjUflriflii  Dittinnanj. 

REMEDIES  MUST  BE  SUITED  TO  THE  CASE. 

Sir,  these  cold  ways, 

That  seem  like  prudent  helps,  are  very  poisonous 
Where  the  disease  is  violent  C.  iii.  1, 

REMEMBRANCE  (See  also  MEMORY). 

Remember  thee  ? 

Yea,  from  the  table  of  my  memory 
I'll  wipe  away  all  trivial  fond  records, 
All  saws  of  books,  al)  forms,  all  pressures  past, 
That  youth  and  observation  copied  there  ; 
And  thy  commandment  all  alone  shall  live 
Within  the  book  and  volume  of  my  brain, 
Unmix'd  with  baser  matter :  yes,  by  heaven.  H.  \.  5. 

By  our  remembrances  of  days  foregone.  A.  W.  i.  3, 

I  cannot  but  remember  such  things  were 

That  were  most  precious  to  me.  M.  iv.  3. 

Rivetted, 
Screwed  to  my  memory.  Gym.  ii.  2. 

Beshrew  your  heart, 

Fair  daughter  1  you  do  draw  my  spirits  from  me, 
With  new  lamenting  antient  oversights.    H.  IV.  PT.  n.  ii.  3. 

His  good  remembrance,  Sir, 
Lies  richer  in  your  thoughts,  than  on  his  tomb ; 
So  in  approof  lives  not  his  epitaph, 
As  in  your  royal  speech.  A.  W.  i.  2. 

So  came  I  a  widow  ; 

And  never  shall  have  length  of  life  enough, 
To  rain  upon  remembrance  with  mine  eyes, 
That  it  may  grow  and  sprout  as  high  as  heaven, 
For  recordation  to  my  noble  husband.      H.  IV.  PT.  n.  ii.  3. 

Whose  remembrance  yet 

Lives  in  men's  eyes :  and  will,  to  ears  and  tongues, 
Be  theme  and  hearing  ever.  Cym.  iii.  1. 

Awake  remembrance  of  these  valiant  dead, 

And  with  your  puissant  arm  renew  their  feats.       H.  V.  i.  2. 

Briefly  thyself  remember.  K.  L  iv.  6. 

RE  MONSTRANCE. 

He  must  be  told  on't,  and  he  shall :  the  office 

Becomes  a  woman  best ;  I'll  tak't  upon  me : 

If  I  prove  honey-mouth'd,  let  my  tongue  blister; 

And  never  to  my  red-look'd  anger  be 

The  trumpet  any  more.  W.  T.  ii.  2 


*' 

REM  v     Ijjnbsprnrhn  Birtionnnr 

__  L  __  r       __    , 


REMORSE  (See  also  COMPUNCTION.) 

When  he  shall  hear  she  died  upon  his  words. 

The  idea  of  her  life  shall  sweetly  creep 

Into  his  study  of  imagination  ; 

And  every  lovely  organ  of  her  life 

Shall  come  apparell'd  in  more  precious  habit, 

More  moving  delicate,  and  full  of  life, 

Into  the  eye  and  prospect  of  hia  soul, 

Than  when  she  liv'd  indeed.  M.  A,  iv.  I 

I'll  go  no  more  . 

I  am  afraid  to  think  what  I  have  done  ; 
Look  on't  again  I  dare  not.  M.  ii.  2. 

Nothing  in  his  life 

Became  him,  like  the  leaving  it  ;  he  died 
As  one  that  had  been  studied  in  his  death, 
To  throw  away  the  dearest  thing  he  ow'd, 
As  'twere  a  careless  trifle.  M.  i.4, 

How  sharp  the  point  of  this  remembrance  is  !  T.  ii.  1. 

0,  would  the  deed  were  good  ! 
For  now  the  devil,  that  told  me  —  I  did  well, 
Says,  that  this  deed  is  chronicled  in  hell.  R.  II.  v.  G. 

Once  a  day  I'll  visit 

The  chapel  where  they  lie  ;  and  tears  shed  there 
Shall  be  my  recreation.  W.  T.  iii.  2, 

RENUMERATION. 

Renumeration  !  0,  that's  the  Latin  word  for  three  farthings. 

L.  L.  iii.  1. 

RENOVATION. 

And  newly  move  H,  V.  iv.  L 

With  casted  slough  and  fresh  legerity. 

RENOUNCEMENT. 

Thy  truth  then  be  thy  dower  : 
For,  by  the  sacred  radiance  of  the  sun  ; 
The  mysteries  of  Hecate,  and  the  night  ; 
By  all  the  operations  of  the  orbs, 
From  whom  we  do  exist,  and  cease  to  be  : 
Here  I  disclaim  all  my  paternal  care, 
Propinquity,  and  property  of  blood. 
And  as  a  stranger  to  my  heart  and  me 
Hold  thee,  from  this,  for  ever.  K.  L.  \.  I 

RENOWN. 

In  truth,  there's  wondrous  things  spoke  of  him.         6T.  ii.  1 

The  man  is  noble  ;  and  his  fame  folds  in 

This  orb  o'  the  earth.  C.  T.  6 


REN          tffltffffilfilt    Biftilttr|,  REP 

RENUNCIATION. 

Legitimation,  name,  and  all  is  gone.  K.  J.  i.  1. 

REPAYMENT. 

0;  I  do  not  like  that  paying  back,  'tis  a  double  labour. 

H.  TV.  PT.  i.  iii.  3. 

REPENTANCE. 

Who  by  repentance  is  not  satisfied 

Is  nor  of  heaven,  nor  earth  ;  for  these  are  pi 

By  penitence  th'  Eternal's  wrath's  appeas'd.  ~"**"l'.  G.  y.  4 

Be  witness  to  me,  0  thou  blessed  moon, 

When  men  revolted  shall  upon  record 

Bear  hateful  memory,  poor  Enobarbus  did 

Before  thy  face  repent.  A.  C.  iv.  9. 

And  begin  to  patch  up  thine  old  body  for  heaven. 

H.  IV.  PT.  n.  ii.  4 

Like  bright  metal  on  a  sullen  ground, 
My  reformation,  glittering  o'er  my  fault, 
Shall  show  more  goodly,  and  attract  more  eyes, 
Than  that  which  hath  no  foil  to  set  it  off.     H.  IV.  PT.  i.  i.2. 
Never  came  reformation  in  a  flood, 
With  such  a  heavy  current,  scow'ring  faults : 
Nor  ever  hydra-headed  wilfulness 
So  soon  did  lose  his  seat,  and  fall  at  once, 
As  in  this  king.  H.  V.  i.  1. 

What  is  done,  cannot  he  now  amended  : 
Men  shall  deal  unadvisedly  sometimes, 
Wliich  after  hours  give  leisure  to  repent.  R.  III.  iv  4. 

Sadly  I  survive 

To  mock  the  expectation  of  the  world  ; 
To  frustrate  prophecies  ;  and  to  raze  out 
Rotten  opinion,  which  hath  writ  me  down 
After  my  seeming.     The  tide  of  blood  in  me 
Hath  proudly  flow'd  in  vanity  till  now ; 
Now  doth  it  turn,  and  ebb  back  to  the  sea ; 
Where  it  shall  mingle  with  the  state  of  floois, 
And  flow  henceforth  in  formal  majesty.     H.  IV.  PT.  IT.  y.  2 
Hold  up  your  hands ;  say  nothing,  I'll  speak  all. 
They  say,  best  men  are  moulded  out  of  faults, 
And,  for  the  most,  became  much  more  the  better 
For  being  a  little  bad  ;  so  may  my  husband.         M.  M.  y,  1 
The  prince  will,  in  the  perfectness  of  time, 
Cast  off  his  followers  ;  and  their  memory 
Shall  as  a  pattern  or  a  measure  live, 
By  which  his  grace  must  mete  the  lives  of  others : 
Turning  past  evils  to  advantages.  H.  IV.  PT.  IL  iy.  4 


REP       Ijjnbsjirflriflfl  $irtiaitan|.       REP 

RE  PENTANCE,— continued. 

I  do  not  shame 

To  tell  you  what  I  was,  since  my  coLversioa 
So  sweetly  tastes,  being  the  thing  I  am.  A.  Y.  iv.  o, 

Forgive  me,  Valentine ;  If  hearty  sorrow 
Be  a  sufficient  ransom  for  offence, 
I  tender  it  here :  I  do  as  truly  suffer, 

As  e'er  I  did  commit.  T.  G.  v.  -4. 

For  heaven  doth  know,  so  shall  the  world  perceive, 
That  I  have  turn'd  away  my  former  self; 
So  will  I  those  that  kept  me  company.       H.  IV.  PT.  ii.  v.  5. 

Well,  I'll  repent,  and  that  suddenly,  while  I  am  in  some 
liking ;  I  shall  be  out  of  heart  shortly,  and  then  I  shall 
have  no  strength  to  repent.  An  I  have  not  forgotten  what 
the  inside  of  a  church  is,  I  am  a  peppercorn,  a  brewer's 
horse :  the  inside  of  a  church  !  Company,  villainous  com- 
pany, has  been  the  spoil  of  me.  H.  IV.  PT.  i.  iii.  3. 

Well,  if  my  wind  were  but  long  enough  to  say  my  pray- 
ers, I  would  repent.  M.  W.  iv.  5 

REPORT. 

There's  gold  for  you  ;  sell  me  your  good  report.   Cym.  ii  j. 
Bring  me  no  more  reports.  M.  v.  3. 

REPLY. 

Shall  I  hear  more,  or  shall  I  speak  at  this  ?  R.  J.  ii.  2. 

REPOSE. 

Our  foster-nurse  of  nature  is  repose.  K.  L.  iv.  4 

REPRESENTATIVE. 

It  is  enppos'd, 

lie,  that  meets  Hector,  issues  from  our  choice  : 
And  choice,  being  mutual  act  of  all  our  souls, 
Makes  merit  her  election  ;  and  doth  boil, 
As  'twere  from  forth  us  all,  a  man  distill'd 
Out  of  our  virtues.  T.  C.  i.  3, 

REPROACH. 

0,  Lymoges  !     0,  Austria !  thoti  dost  shame 
That  bloody  spoil :  Thou  slave,  thou  wretch,  thou  coward  ; 
Thou  little  valliant,  great  in  villainy ! 
Thou  ever  strong  upon  the  stronger  side  ! 
Thou  fortune's  champion,  that  dost  never  fight 
But  when  her  humorous  ladyship  is  by 
To  teach  thec  safety !  thou  art  perjur'd,  too, 
And  sooth'st  up  greatness.     What  a  fool  art  thou, 
A  ramping  fool,  to  brag,  ami  stamp,  and  swear. 
Upon  my  party  1     Thou  cold-blooded  slave, 
121 


REP        Ijjabsjiniriitii  Dutinnflrij.       HEP 

REPROACH,— continued. 

Hast  thou  not  spjke  like  thunder  on  my  side  ? 

Been  sworn  my  soldier,  bidding  me  depend 

Upon  thy  stars,  thy  fortune,  and  thy  strength  ? 

And  dost  thou  now  fall  over  to  my  foes  ? 

Thou  wear  a  lion's  hide  !  doff  it  foi  shame, 

And  hang  a  calf-skin  on  those  recreant  limbs  !     K,  J.  iii.  1. 

REPROOF. 

Madam,  I  have  a  touch  of  your  condition 

And  cannot  bear  the  accent  of  reproof.  JR.  HI.  iv.  4. 

REPROOF  ILL-TIMED. 

My  lord  Sebastian, 

The  truth  you  speak  doth  lack  some  gentleness, 
And  time  to  speak  it  in  :  you  rob  the  sore, 
When  you  should  bring  the  plaster.  T.  ii.  1. 

REPUGNANCE. 

No,  rather  I  abjure  all  roofs,  and  choose 

To  wage  against  the  enmity  o'  the  air  ; 

To  be  a  comrade  with  the  wolf  and  owl, 

Necessity's  sharp  pinch  1  K.  L.  ii.  4. 

I'll  never  see't ;  for,  I  am  sure,  my  nails 

Are  stronger  than  mine  eyes.  A.  C.  v.  2. 

REPULSE. 

I  have  said  too  much  unto  a  heart  of  stone, 

And  laid  my  honour  too  unchary  out.  T.  N.  iii.  4. 

What  I  Michael  Cassio, 

That  came  a  wooing  with  you ;  and  many  a  time, 
When  I  have  spoke  of  you  dispraisingly, 
Hath  ta'en  your  part ;  to  have  so  much  to  do 
T  j  bring  him  in  I  0.  iii.  3. 

REPUTATION  (See  also  HONOUR). 

Good  name,  in  man,  and  woman,  dear  my  lord, 

Is  the  immediate  jewel  of  their  souls : 

Who  steals  my  purse,  steals  trash;  'tis  something,  nothing; 

'Twas  mine,  'tis  his,  and  has  been  slave  to  thousands  : 

But  he,  that  filches  from  me  my  good  name, 

Robs  me  of  that  which  not  enriches  him, 

And  makes  me  poor  indeed.  0.  iii.  8 

The  bubble  reputation.  A.T.il.  7 

The  gravity  and  stillness  of  your  youth 

The  world  hath  noted,  and  your  name  is  great 

In  mouths  of  wisest  censure.  0.  ii.  3, 

HI 


REP       f  Jjaktiyurifti  $utintinit|.        RES 

RE  P  U  T  ATION,— continued. 

Be  not  amazed  :  call  all  your  senses  to  you  :  Defend  your 
reputation,  or  bid  farewell  to  your  good  life  for  ever. 

M.W.  iii.3. 

I  see,  my  reputation  is  at  stake ; 
My  fame  is  shrewdly  gor'd.  T.C.  iii.  3. 

These  wise  men  that  give  fools  money,  get  themselves 
&  good  report,  after  fourteen  years'  purchase.       T.  N.  iv.  I. 

C,  I  have  lost  my  reputation.     I  have  lost  the  immortal 
part,  Sir,  of  myself;  and  what  remains  is  bestial.     0.  ii.  3. 

Reputation  is  an  idle  and  most  false  imposition ;  oft  got 
without  merit,  and  lost  without  deserving.  0.  ii.  3 

I  have  offended  reputation  ; 
A  most  unnoble  swerving.  A.  C.  iii.  9. 

I  would  to  God,  thou  and  I  knew  where  a  commodity  of 
good  names  were  to  bo  bought.  H.  IV.  PT.  i.  i.  2. 

REQUEST,  UNSEASONABLE. 

Thou  troublest  me,  I'm  not  i'the  vein.  R.  III.  iv.  2 

RESEMBLANCE. 

Youth,  thou  bear'st  thy  father's  face  ; 

Frank  nature,  rather  curious  than  in  haste, 

Hath  -well  compos'd  thee.  Thy  father's  moral  parts 

May'st  thou  inherit  too.  A.  W.  i.  2. 

RESERVE. 

Thou  art  all  ice,  thy  kindness  freezes.  R.  HI.  iv.  2. 

Marry,  before  your  ladyship,  I  grant, 

She  puts  her  tongue  a  little  in  her  heart, 

And  chides  with  thinking.  O.  ii.  1. 

RESIGNATION. 

0,  you  mighty  gods  1 

This  world  I  do  renounce  ;  and  in  your  sights, 
Shake  patiently  my  great  affliction  off: 
If  I  could  bear  it  longer,  and  not  fall 
To  quarrel  with  your  great  opposeless  wills, 
My  snuff,  and  loathed  parts  of  nature,  should 
Burn  itself  out  K.  L.  iv.  6. 

Happy  is  your  grace, 

That  can  translate  the  stubborness  of  fortune 
Into  BO  quiet  and  so  sweet  a  style.  A.  Y.  ii.  1. 

0  father  abbot, 

An  old  man,  broken  with  the  storms  of  stato, 
Is  come  to  lay  his  weary  bones  among  ye  ; 
Give  him  a  little  earth  for  charity.  H.  FID*,  iv  2. 


Jjjjfikrsjirnrinn  llrtinnnrtj.       RES 


RESIGNATION,—  continued. 

Then,  dreadful  trumpet,  sound  the  gener'  "••'  ;0m! 

R.  J.  ill  2 

I'll  queen  it  no  inch  further  ; 
But  milk  my  ewes,  and  weep.  W.T.  iv.  3, 

Cheer  your  heart  : 

Be  you  not  troubled  with  the  time,  which  drives 
O'er  your  content  these  strong  necessities  ; 
But  kit  determin'd  things  to  destiny 
Hold  unoewaiPd  their  way.  A.  C.  iii.  6 

Grieve  not  that  I  am  fall'n  to  this  for  you  : 

For  herein  fortune  shows  herself  more  kind 

Than  is  her  custom  :  it  is  still  her  use, 

To  let  the  wretched  man  outlive  his  wealth, 

And  yie>v  with  hollow  eyo,  and  wrinkled  brow, 

An  age  of  poverty  ;  from  the  ling'ring  penance 

Of  such  a  misery  doth  she  cut  me  off.  M.  V,  iv.  I. 

vJod  be  with  you  !  —  I  have  done.  O.  i.  3. 

RESOLVE,  MURDEROUS. 

Come,  come,  you  spirits 

That  tend  on  mortal  thoughts,  unsex  me  here  ; 
And  fill  me,  from  the  crown  to  the  toe,  top-full 
Of  direst  cruelty  !  make  thick  my  blood, 
Stop  up  the  access  and  passage  to  remorse  ; 
That  no  compunctious  visitings  of  Nature 
Shake  my  full  purpose,  nor  keep  peace  between 
The  effect,  and  it  1  Come  to  my  woman's  breasts, 
And  take  my  milk  for  gall,  you  murd'ring  ministers, 
Wherever  in  your  sightless  substances 
You  wait  on  Nature's  mischief  1  Come,  thick  night, 
And  pall  thee  in  the  dunnest  smoke  of  hell  ! 
That  my  keen  knife  see  not  the  wound  it  makes  : 
Nor  heaven  peep  through  the  blanket  of  the  dark, 
To  cry  holdl  hold!  M.  i.5 

RESOLUTION  (See  also  DETERMINATION). 

We  will  not  from  the  helm,  to  sit  and  weep  ; 

But  keep  our  course,  though  the  rough  wind  say,  No. 

H.  VI.  FT.  III.  T.  4 

Muse  not  that  I  thus  suddenly  proceed, 

For  what  I  will,  I  will,  and  there  an  end.  T.  G.  i.  S. 

The  harder  match'd,  the  greater  victory: 
My  mind  presageth  happy  gain  and  conquest 

H.  VL  FT.  in.  v.  1 

Strike  now,  or  else  the  iron  cool*.  H.  VI.  FT.  m.  1.  1 

m 


RES        lljnbspiirtini  iirtinnnnj.        RET 

RESOLUTION,— continued. 

I  should  be  sick, 

But  that  my  resolution  helps  me.  Cym.  iii.  6. 

The  cause  is  in  my  will.  J.C.  ii.  2. 

Wo  must  have  bloody  noses,  and  crack'd  crowns, 
And  pass  them  current  too.    Gods  me,  my  horse ! 

H.  W.  FT.  i.  ii.  3. 

RETIREMENT. 

To  forswear  the  full  stream  of  the  world,  and  to  live  in  a 
nook  merely  monastic.  A.Y.  iii.  2. 

Are  not  these  woods 

More  free  from  peril  than  the  envious  court? 
Here  feel  we  but  the  penalty  of  Adam, 
The  seasons'  difference ;  as,  the  icy  fang, 
And  churlish  chiding  of  the  winter's  wind  ; 
Which  when  it  bites  and  blows  upon  my  body, 
Even  till  I  shrink  with  cold,  I  smile,  and  say,— 
This  is  no  flattery ;  these  are  counsellors 
That  feelingly  persuade  me/what  I  am.  A.  T.  ii.  1 

Let  me  not  live, — 

Thus  his  good  melancholy  oft  began, 
On  tha  catastrophe  and  heel  of  pastime, 
When  it  was  out, — Let  me  not  live,  quoth  he 
After  my  flame  lacks  oil,  to  be  the  snuff 
Of  younger  spirits,  whose  apprehensive  senses 
All  but  new  things  disdain  ;  whose  judgments  are 
Mere  fathers  of  their  garments ;  whose  constancies 
Expire  before  their  fashions :  This  he  wish'd 
I,  after  him,  do  after  him  wish  too, 
Since  I  nor  wax  nor  honey  can  bring  home, 
I  quickly  were  dissolved  from  my  hive, 
To  give  some  labourers  room.  A.WA.2 

And  this  our  life,  exempt  from  public  haunt, 
Finds  tongues  in  trees,  books  in  the  running  brooks, 
Sermons  in  stones,  and  good  in  every  thing.  A.Y.  ii.  1 

For  mine  own  part,  I  could  be  well  content 
To  entertain  the  lag-end  of  my  life 

With  quiet  hours.  H.  IV.  Pt.  I.  v.  1 

To  shake  all  cares  and  business  from  our  age  ; 
Conferring  them  on  younger  strengths,  while  we, 
Unburden 'd,  crawl  toward  death.  K.  L.  i.  1 

SETREAT. 

A  poor  sequester'd  stag, 
That  from  the  hunter's  aim  had  ta'en  a  hurt, 
Did  come  to  languish.  A.  T.  ii  1 


RET        lljalUfljnanai!  iitiinunrt|. 


RETRIBUTION. 

That  high  ALL-SEEK  which  I  dallied  with, 

Hath  turn'd  my  feigned  prayer  on  my  head, 

And  given  in  earnest  what  I  begg*d  in  jest.        R.  111.  v.  ! 

Till  now  you  have  gone  on,  and  fill'd  the  time 

With  all  licentious  measure,  making  your  wills 

The  scope  of  justice  ;  till  now,  myself  and  such 

Ae  slept  within  the  shadow  of  your  power, 

Have  wander'd  with  our  travers'd  arms,  and  breath'd 

Our  sufferance  vainly  :  Now  the  time  is  flush, 

When  crouching  marrow,  in  the  bearer  strong, 

Cries  of  itself,  No  more  :  now  breathless  wrong, 

Shall  sit  and  pant  in  your  great  chairs  of  ease  ; 

And  pursy  insolence  shall  break  his  wind, 

With  fear  and  horrid  flight.  T.  A.  v.  5. 

Thus  hath  the  course  of  justice  wheel'd  about, 

And  left  thee  but  a  very  prey  to  time  ; 

Having  no  more  but  thought  of  what  thou  wert, 

To  torture  thee  the  more,  being  what  thou  art. 

Thou  didst  usurp  my  place.    And  dost  thou  not 

Usurp  the  just  proportion  of  my  sorrow?  R.  HI.  iv  4, 

So  just  is  God  to  right  the  innocent  1  R.  HI,  i.  3 

But  it  is  no  matter: 
Let  Hercules  himself  do  what  he  may, 
The  cat  will  mew,  the  dog  will  have  his  day.  H.  v.  1. 

0  God  !  I  fear,  thy  justice  will  take  hold 

On  me,  and  you,  and  mine,  and  yours,  for  this.  R.  ILL  ii.  1, 

For  this  down-trodden  equity,  we  tread, 

In  warlike  march,  these  greens  before  your  town. 

K.J.\\.\ 
And  thus  the  whirligig  of  time  brings  in  his  revenges. 

T.  N.  v.  1 
RETROSPECTION. 

When  to  the  sessions  of  sweet  silent  thought, 
I  summon  up  remembrance  of  things  past, 

1  sigh  the  lack  of  many  a  thing  I  sought, 

And  with  old  woes,  new  waile  my  dear  time's  waste  ; 
Then  can  I  drown  an  eye  (unus'd  to  flow) 

For  precious  friends  hid  in  death's  dateless  night, 
And  weep  afresh  love's  long  since  cancell'd  woe, 

And  moan  the  expense  of  many  a  vanisht  sight. 
Then  can  I  grieve  at  grievances  foregone, 

And  heavily  from  woe  to  woe  tell  o'er 
The  sad  account  of  fore  -bemoaned  moan, 

Which  I  now  pay,  as  if  not  paid  before.  Pbems 

826 


REV       $jjaitB0jnnrinti  iirtinuimj. 

REVELRY. 

Heavy-headed  revel.  H.  i.  4 

Our  vaults  have  wept 

With  drunken  spilth  of  wine ;  when  every  rtom 
Hath  blaz'd  with  lights,  and  bray*d  with  minstrelsy. 

T.  A.  a.  2. 

REVENGE. 

If  a  Jew  wrong  a  Christian,  what  is  his  humility? — 
revenge ;  if  a  Christian  wrong  a  Jew,  what  should  hii 
sufferance  be,  bv  Christian  example  ? — why,  revenge. 

M.V.m.l. 

0,  I  could  play  the  woman  with  mine  eyes, 
And  braggart  with  my  tongue ! — But,  gentle  heaven, 
Cut  short  all  intermission ;  front  to  front, 
Bring  thou  this  fiend  of  Scotland,  and  myself; 
Within  my  sword's  length  set  him ;  if  he  'scape, 
Heaven  forgive  him  too  !  xrf.  iv.  3. 

To  weep,  is  to  make  less  the  depth  of  grief; 
Tears,  then,  for  babes  ;  blows,  and  revenge  tor  me. 

H.  VI.  PT.  in.  ii.  1, 

Haste  me  to  know  it ;  that  I,  with  wings  as  swift 
As  meditation,  or  the  thoughts  of  love, 
May  sweep  to  my  revenge.  H.  i.  5 

Had  I  thy  brethren  here,  their  lives,  and  thine. 

Were  not  revenge  sufficient  for  me  ; 

No,  if  I  digg'd  up  thy  forefathers'  graves, 

And  hung  their  rotten  coffins  up  in  chains, 

It  could  not  slake  mine  ire,  nor  case  my  heart. 

The  sight  of  any  of  the  house  of  York 

Is  as  a  fury  to  torment  my  soul ; 

And  till  I  root  out  their  accursed  line, 

And  leave  not  one  alive,  I  live  in  hell.       H.  VI.  PT.  in.  i.  3 

Up,  sword  ;  and  know  thou  a  more  horrid  bent , 

When  he  is  drunk,  asleep,  or  in  his  rage ; 

Or  in  tlie  incestuous  pleasures  of  his  bed ; 

At  gaming,  swearing ;  or  about  some  act 

T;iat  has  no  relish  of  salvation  in't: 

Then  trip  him,  that  his  heels  may  kick  at  heaven, 

And  that  his  soul  may  be  as  damn'd,  and  black 

As  hell,  whereto  it  goes.  H.  iii,  3 

To  hell,  allegiance !  vows,  to  the  blackest  devil ! 

Conscience,  and  grace,  to  the  profoundest  pit ! 

I  dare  damnation  :  To  this  point  I  stand,— 

That  both  the  worlds  I  give  to  negligence, 

JJet  oome  what  comes ;  only,  I'll  be  reyeng*d.          H.  iv.$ 

m 


REV        Ijjakrgjnarinti  Dirtinnnrij.       RIIY 

REVENGE,— continued. 

I  am  disgrac'd,  impeach'd,  and  baffled  here  ; 
Pierc'd  to  the  soul  with  slander's  venom'd  spear ; 
The  which  no  balm  can  cure,  but  his  heart's  blood 
Which  breath'd  this  poison.  R,  II.  \.  i 

My  bloody  thoughts,  with  violent  pace, 
Shall  ne'er  look  back,  ne'er  ebb  to  humble  love, 
Till  that  a  capable  and  wide  revenge 
Swallow  them  up.  0.  iii.  3. 

Caesar's  spirit,  ranging  for  revenge, 
With  At6  by  his  side,  come  hot  from  hell, 
Shall,  in  these  confines,  with  a  monarch's  voice, 
Cry  Havock !  and  let  slip  the  dogs  of  war.  J.  C.  iii.  1. 

To  revenge  is  no  valour,  but  to  bear.  T.  A.  iii.  5. 

Had  all  his  hairs  been  lives,  my  great  revenge 
Had  stomach  for  them  all.  O.  v.  2, 

REVERENCE. 

That  angel  of  the  world  doth  make  distinction 

Of  place  'twixt  high  and  low.  Gym.  iv.  2 

REVERSES. 

He  seems 

Proud  and  disdainful ;  harping  on  what  I  am ; 
Not  what  he  knew  I  was :  He  makes  me  angry ; 
And  at  this  time  most  easy  'tis  to  do't ; 
When  my  good  stars,  that  were  my  former  guides, 
Have  left  their  orbs,  and  shot  their  fires, 
Into  the  abysm  of  hell.  A.C.  iii.  11 

Against  the  blown  rose  may  they  stop  their  nose, 
That  kneel'd  unto  the  buds.  A.C.  iii.  11 

REVIEW. 

Here,  here ;  here's  an  excellent  place ;  here  we  may  see 
most  bravely :  I'll  tell  you  them  all  by  their  names  as  thej 
pass  by.  T.  C.  i.  2 

REVOLUTION. 

Such  is  the  infection  of  the  time, 
That  for  the  health  and  physic  of  our  right, 
We  cannot  deal  but  with  the  very  hand 
Of  stern  injustice  and  confused  wrong.  K.  /.  v.  2. 

RHETORIC. 

Sweet  smoke  of  rhetoric  I  L.  L.  iii.  1 

RHYMSTER  (See  also  POET,  BALLAD-MONGER). 

Ha,  Ha  ;  how  vilely  doth  this  cynic  rhyme  !          J.C.  iv.  3. 
Hang  odes  upon  hawthorns,  and  elegies  on  brambles. 


inn  lutimtf.        ROA 


PvIlYMSTER,—  continued. 

What  should  the  wars  do  with  the  jigging  fools?   J.C.  iv.  3. 

This  is  the  very  false  gallop  of  verses  ;  why  do  y:m  in- 
fect yourself  with  them  ?  A.  Y.  iii.  2. 

I  was  not  born  under  a  rhyming  planet,  nor  I  cannot  woo 
in  festival  terms.  M.  A.  v.  2. 

RHYME. 

There  never  was  a  truer  rhyme.  Let  us  cast  away 
nothing,  for  we  may  live  to  have  need  of  such  a  verse. 

r.tf.iv.3. 

.  ICH. 

As  is  the  ooze  and  bottom  of  the  sea 

With  sunken  wreck  and  sumless  treasuries.  H.  V.  i.  2. 

RICHES  AND  GOODNESS. 

The  old  proverb  is  pretty  well  parted  between  my  master 
Shylock  and  you,  Sir  ;  you  have  the  grace  of  God,  Sir,  and 
he  hath  enough.  M.  V.  ii.  2. 

RIDDANCE. 

Call  the  rest  of  the  watch  together,  and  thank  God  you 
are  rid  of  a  knave.  M.  A.  iii.  3 

RIDICULE. 

Shall  quips,  and  sentences,  and  these  paper  bullets  of  the 
brain,  awe  a  man  from  the  career  of  his  humour? 

M.  A.  ii.  3. 

And  in  this  fashion, 
All  our  abilities,  gifts,  natures,  shapes, 
Severals  and  generals  of  grace  exact, 
Achievements,  plots,  orders,  preventions, 
Excitements  to  the  field,  or  speech  for  truce, 
Success  or  loss,  what  is,  or  is  not,  serves 
As  stuff  for  these  two  to  make  paradoxes.  T.C.  i.  3. 

RIGOUR. 

There  is  no  more  mercy  in  him,  than  there  is  milk  in  a 
male  tiger.  C.  v.  4. 

XIOT. 

There  is  no  fear  of  Got  in  a  riot  M.  W.  i.  1. 

RISIBILITY. 

He  does  smile  his  face  into  more  lines,  than  are  in  the 
new  map,  with  the  augmentation  of  the  Indies.  T.N.  iii.  2. 

ROAR. 

0  'twas  a  din  to  fright  a  monster's  ear  ; 

To  make  an  earthquake  I  sure  it  was  the  roar 

Of  a  whole  herd  of  lions.  T.  ii.  1 


ROA        Ijjnkrspjnrian  liriinnartj.       ROI 

ROAR, — continued. 

You  may  do  it  extempore,  for  it  la  nothing  but  roaring. 

M.N.i  2. 

ROBBER. 

This  is  the  most  omnipotent  villain  that  ever  cried,  Stand, 
to  a  true  man.  H.  IV.  PT.  i.  i.  2. 

ROGUE  (See  also  KNAVE,  VILLAIN). 

Here's  an  overwhoening  rogue  I  T.  N.  ii.  5 

ROSES(oF  YORK  AND  LANCASTER). 

This  brawl  to-day, 

Grown  to  this  faction,  in  the  Temple  Garden, 
Shall  send,  between  the  red  rose  and  the  white, 
A  thousand  souls  to  death  and  deadly  night. 

H.  VI.  PT.  i.  ii.  4. 

Well,  I'll  find  friends  to  wear  my  bleeding  roses 
That  shall  maintain  what  I  have  said  is  true : 
Ay,  thou  shalt  find  us  ready  for  thee  still, 
And  know  us  by  these  colours  for  thy  foes.    H.  VI.  PT.  i.  ii.4 
And,  by  my  soul,  this  pale  and  angry  rose, 
As  cognizance  of  my  blood-drinking  hate, 
Will  I  for  ever,  arid  my  faction,  wear ; 
Until  it  wither  with  me  to  the  grave, 
Or  flourish  to  the  height  of  my  degree.        H.  VI.  PT.  i.  ii.  4. 

ROTTENNESS. 

Something  is  rotten  in  the  state  of  Denmark.  H.  i.  4. 

ROVERS. 

I  would  have  men  of  such  constancy  put  to  sea,  that  their 
business  might  be  every  thing,  and  their  intent  every  where ; 
for  that's  it,  that  always  makes  a  good  voyage  of  nothing. 

T.  N.  ii.  4. 

ROYALTY  IN  SUBJECTION. 

To  be  a  queen  in  bondage,  is  more  vile 

Than  is  a  slave  in  base  servility  ; 

For  princes  should  be  free.  H.  VI.  PT.  i.  v.  3. 

RUDENESS. 

None  of  noble  sort  would  so  offend  a  virgin.       M.  N.  5ii.  2. 

RUINS. 

The  ruin  speaks,  that  sometime  it  was  a  worthy  building. 

Gym.  iv.  2. 

RULERS. 

He,  who  the  sword  of  heaven  will  bear, 
Should  be  as  holy  as  severe ; 
Pattern  in  himself  to  know, 


RUL       ftjffktiftafiftfi  ®irtinnan|.        RTTS 


RULERS,—  continued. 

Grace  to  stand,  and  virtue  gjo  ; 

More  nor  less  to  others  paying, 

Than  by  self-offences  weighing. 

Shame  to  him,  whose  cruel  striking 

Kills  for  faults  of  his  own  liking.  M.  M.  iii.  "*. 

There  be,  that  can  rule  Naples 
As  well  as  he  that  sleeps  ;  lords,  that  can  prate 
As  amply  and  unnecessarily, 
As  this  Gonzalo.  T.  ii.  1 

J^MOUR. 

Rumour  doth  double,  like  thti  voice  and  echo, 

The  numbers  of  the  fear'd.  H.IV.  FT.  n  iii.  1 

There's  toys  abroad  ;  anon  I'll  tell  thee  more.        K.  *.  i.  1 

For  so  I  have  strew'd  it  in  the  common  ear, 

And  so  it  is  receiv'd.  M.  M.  i.  4 

By  holy  Paul,  they  love  his  grace  but  lightly, 
That  fill  his  ears  with  such  dissertious  rumours. 

B.m.1^ 

Old  men,  and  beldams,  in  the  streets 

Do   prophecy  upon  it  dangerously.  K.  J.  iv.  2 

Open  your  ears  :  for  which  of  you  will  stop 

The  vent  of  hearing,  when  loud  Rumour  speaks  ? 

I,  from  the  orient,  to  the  drooping  west, 

Making  the  wind  my  post-horse,  still  unfold 

The  acts  commenced  on  this  ball  of  earth  : 

Jpon  my  tongues  continual  slanders  ride  ; 

The  which  in  every  language  I  pronounce, 

Stuffing  the  ears  of  men  with  false  reports. 

I  speak  of  peace,  while  covert  enmity, 

Under  the  smile  of  safety,  wounds  the  world  : 

And  who  but  Rumour,  who  but  only  I, 

Make  fearful  musters,  and  prepar'd  defence  ; 

Whilst  the  big  year,  swoln  with  some  other  grief, 

Is  thought  with  child  by  the  stern  tyrant  war, 

And  no  such  matter  ?     Rumour  is  a  pipe 

Blown  by  surmises,  jealousies,  conjectures  ; 

And  of  so  easy  and  so  plain  a  stop, 

That  the  blunt  monster  with  uncounted  heads, 

The  still  discordant  wavering  multitude, 

Can  play  upon  it.  H.  IV.  FT.  n.  i.  Ind 

JOSHING  OP  A  MULTITUDE. 

Ne'er  through  an  arch  so  hurried  -the  blown  tide, 

As  the  recomforted  through  the  gates.  C.  v.  4 

831 


BAG       lljabspanatt  iittinnanj.       SAD 


SACK. 

A  good  sherris-sack  has  a  two-fold  operation  in  it.  11 
ascends  me  into  the  brain :  dries  me  there  all  the  foolish, 
and  dull,  and  crudy  vapours  which  environ  it:  makes  it 
uj  prehensive,  quick,  and  forgetive,  full  of  nimble,  fiery, 
and  delectable  shapes ;  which  delivered  o'er  to  the  voice, 
'*Jie  tongue)  which  is  the  birth,  becomes  excellent  wit.  Tho 
decond  property  of  your  excellent  sherris  is, — the  warming 
of  the  blood ;  which,  before  cold,  and  settled,  left  the  liver 
white  and  pale,  which  is  the  badge  of  pusillanimity  and 
cowardice  ;  but  the  sherris  warms  it,  and  makes  it  course 
from  the  inwards  to  the  parts  extreme.  It  illuminateth  the 
face  ;  which,  as  a  beacon,  gives  warning  to  all  the  rest  of 
this  little  kingdom,  man,  to  arm :  and  then  the  vital  com- 
moners, and  inland  petty  spirits  muster  me  all  to  their  cap- 
tain, the  heart ;  who,  great,  and  puffed  up  with  this  retinue, 
doth  anydeed  of  courage  ;  and  this  valour  comes  of  sher- 
ris :  So  that  skill  in  the  weapon  is  nothing,  without  sack  ; 
for  that  sets  it  a-work :  and  learning,  a  mere  hoard  of  gold, 
kept  by  a  devil ;  till  sack  commences  it,  and  sets  it  in  act 
and  use.  Hereof  comes  it,  that  prince  Harry  is  valiant :  for 
the  cold  blood  he  did  naturally  inherit  of  his  father,  he 
hath,  like  lean,  steril,  and  bare  land,  manured,  husbanded, 
and  tilled,  with  excellent  endeavour  of  drinking  good,  and 
good  store  of  fertile  shtrris;  that  he  is  become  very  hot, 
and  valiant.  If  I  had  a  thousand  sons,  the  first  human 
principle  I  would  teach  them,  should  be,— to  forswear  thin 
potations,  and  addict  themselves  to  sack. 

H.IV.  FT.  ii.  iv.  3. 

SADNESS. 

In  sooth,  I  know  not  why  I  am  so  sad  ; 

It  wearies  me ;  you  say,  it  wearies  you  : 

But  how  I  caught  it,  found  it,  or  came  by't, 

What  stuff  'tis  made  of,  whereof  it  is  born, 

I  am  to  learn.  M,  V.  L  1 

Howe'er  it  be, 

I  cannot  but  be  sad ;  HO  heavy  sad, 
As,  though  in  thinking,  on  no  thought  I  think, — 
Makes  me  with  heavy  nothing  faint  and  shrink. 

KILn.Z 

Such  a  want-wit  sadness  makes  of  me, 
That  I  have  much  ado  to  know  myself.  M.  V,  \.  \. 

332 


8AD       Jtyftk*ift.iriii  iiitinuan(.       SAT 


S  ADNESS,—  continued. 

I  do  note, 

That  grief  and  patience,  rooted  in  him  both, 
Mingle  their  spurs  together.  Cym.  iv.  *~ 

There  is  no  measure  in  the  occasion  that  breeds  it,  there- 
fore the  sadness  is  without  limit.  M.A.  i.  3. 

SAGACITY. 

This  learned  constable  is  too  cunning  to  be  understood. 

M.A.  v.  1. 

SALUTATION  (See  also  BENEDICTION). 

Rest  you  fair,  good  Signior.  M.  F.  i.  8. 

The  heavens  rain  odours  on  you.  T.  N.  iii.  1. 

Hail  to  thee,  lady  !  and  the  grace  of  heaven, 

Before,  behind  thee,  and  on  every  hand, 

Enwheel  thee  round.  0.  ii.  1. 


CLERICAL. 


Jove  bless  thee,  master  parson.  T.N.  iv.  2. 

MILITARY. 


Most  military  Sir,  salutation.  L.  L.  v.  *. 

SARCASMS. 

She  speaks  poignards,  and  every  word  stabs  ;  if  her 
breath  were  as  terrible  as  her  terminations,  there  were  no 
living  near  her,  she  would  infect  the  north  star. 

M.A.  ii.  1. 

SATIETY. 

They  surfeited  with  honey,  and  began 

To  loathe  the  taste  of  sweetness,  whereof  little 

More  than  a  little  is  by  much  too  ranch.   H.  IV.  PT.  i.  iii.  2. 

Who  rises  from  a  feast 
With  that  keen  appetite  that  he  eitf  down  ? 
Where  is  the  horse  that  doth  untread  again 
His  tedious  measures  with  th'  unabated  fire 
That  he  did  pace  them  first  ?     All  things  that  are, 
Are  with  more  spirit  chased  than  enjoyed.  M.  V.  ii.  6 

0,  ten  times  faster  Venus'  pigeons  fly, 
To  seal  love's  bonds  new  made,  than  they  are  wont, 
To  keep  obliged  faith  unforfeited.  M.  V.  ii.  6. 

The  food  that  to  him  DOW  is  as  luscious  as  locusts,  shall 
be  to  him  shortly  as  bitter  as  ooloquintida.  0.  i.  3. 

•5  A  TIRE. 

Satire,  keen  and  critical.  M.  N.  v.  1 

Wit  larded  with  malice.  T. C.  v. ', 


SAT       Ijjfifosjiranfln  Dutinnanj.        sec 

SATIRE,— continued. 

I  must  have  liberty 

Withal,  as  large  a  charter  as  the  wind, 
To  blow  on  whom  I  please  ;  for  so  fools  have  ; 
And  they  that  are  most  galled  with  my  folly, 
They  most  must  laugh  :  And  why,  sir,  must  they  to  ? 
The  why  is  plain  as  way  to  parish  church ; 
He,  that  a  fool  doth  very  wisely  hit, 
Doth  very  foolishly,  although  he  smart, 
Not  to  seem  senseless  of  the  bob ;  if  not, 
The  wise  man's  folly  is  anatomis'd 
Ev'n  by  the  squand'ring  glances  of  the  fool.          A.  T.  ii.  7. 

SATIRIST. 

The  world's  large  tongue, 
Proclaims  you  for  a  man  replete  with  mocks ; 
Full  of  comparison  and  wounding  flouts ; 
Which  you  on  all  estates  will  execute, 
That  lie  within  the  mercy  of  your  wit.  L.  L.  v.  2, 

A  very  dull  fool ;  his  only  gift  is  in  devising  impossible 
slanders  ;  none  but  libertines  delight  in  him  ;  and  the  com- 
mendation is  not  in  his  wit,  but  in  his  villainy  ;  for  he  both 
pleases  men,  and  angers  them,  and  then  they  laugh  at  him, 
and  beat  him.  M.  A.  ii.  1. 

SAVAGE. 

Fit  for  the  mountains,  and  the  barbarous  caves, 

Where  manners  ne'er  were  preached.  T.  N.  iv.  1. 

SCHEMER. 

What  impossible  matter  will  he  make  easy  next?      T.  ii.  1. 

I  am  not  so  nice 
To  change  true  rules  for  odd  inventions.  T.  S.  iii.  1 

SCHOLAR. 

Thou  art  a  scholar,  speak  to  it,  Horatio.  H.  i.  1. 

SCHOOLBOY  SIMPLICITY. 

The  flat  transgression  of  a  schoolboy  ;  who,  being  over- 
joyed with  finding  a  bird's  nest,  shows  it  to  his  companion, 
and  he  steals  it.  M.  A.  ii.  1. 

SCHOOLMASTER. 

Sir,  I  praise  the  Lord  for  you ;  and  so  may  my  parishion 
ers;  for  their  sons  are  well  tutored  by  you,  and  their  daugh- 
ters profit  very  groatly  under  you  ;  you  are  a  good  member 
!>f  the  commonwealth.  L.  L.  iv.  2 

SCOLD. 

Think  you,  a  little  din  can  daunt  mine  ears? 
Ilavo  I  not  in  my  time  heard  lions  roar? 


sco       $jjak?3juanan  Sirtinnartj. 

SCO  LD, — continued. 

Have  I  not  heard  the  sea,  puffd  up  with  winds, 

Rage  like  an  hungry  boar,  chafed  with  sweat  ? 

Have  I  not  heard  great  ordnance  in  the  field, 

And  Heaven's  artillery  thunder  in  the  skies  ? 

Have  I  not  in  pitched  battles  heard 

Loud  'larums,  neighing  steeds,  and  trumpets'  clang  ? 

And  do  you  tell  me  of  a  woman's  tongue, 

That  gives  not  half  so  great  a  blow  to  the  ear 

As  will  a  chesnut  in  a  farmer's  fire  ?  T.  S.  i.  2 

SCORN. 

You  speak  of  the  people,  as  if  you  were  a  god, 
To  punish  ;  not  a  man  of  their  infirmity.  C,  iii.  1. 

You  are  not  worth  another  word,  else  I'd  call  you  knave. 

A.  W.  ii.  3. 

0  that  I  were  a  god,  to  shoot  forth  thunder 
Upon  these  paltry,  servile,  abject  drudges ! 

H.  VI.  PT.  n.  iv.  1. 
Scorn  at  first,  makes  after  love  the  more.  T.  G.  iii.  1. 

I  will  not  do't : 

Lest  I  surcease  to  honour  mine  own  truth, 
And,  by  my  body's  action,  teach  my  mind 
A  most  inherent  baseness.  01  iii.  2, 

SCULPTURE. 

He  so  near  to  Hermione  hath  done  Hermione,  that,  thej 
pay,  one  would  speak  to  her   and  stand  in  hope  of  answer. 

W.  Tlv.2. 
Still,  methinks, 

There  is  an  air  comes  from  her :  what  fine  chizzel 
Could  ever  yet  cut  breath.  W.  T.  v.  3. 

SEA. 

The  watery  kingdom,  whose  ambitious  head 
Spits  in  the  face  of  heaven.  M.  V.  ii.  6 

.  BED  or  THE. 

Methought,  I  saw  a  thousand  fearful  wrecks ; 

A  thousand  men,  that  fishes  gnaw'd  upon  ; 

Wedges  of  gold,  great  anchors,  heaps  of  pearl, 

Inestimable  stones,  unvalued  jewels, 

All  scatter'd  on  the  bottom  of  the  sea. 

Some  lay  in  dead  men's  sculls  ;  and,  in  those  hole? 

Where  eyes  did  once  inhabit,  there  were  crept 

(As  'twere  in  scorn  of  eyes)  reflecting  gems, 

That  woo'd  the  slimy  bottom  of  the  deep, 

And  mock'd  the  dead-bones  that  lay  scatter'd  by. 

JJ.ZZZL4 


IjjakBSpartntt  iutioirnrtj,        SKO 


SEA,   PERILS  OF  THE  (See  also  SHIPWRECK). 

Our  hint  of  woe 

Is  common  :  every  day,  some  sailor's  wife, 
The  masters  of  some  merchant,  and  the  merchant, 
Have  just  our  theme  of  woe.  T.  ii.  1., 

SEASONS. 

The  seasons  alter  ;  hoary-headed  frosts 
Fall  in  the  fresh  lap  of  the  crimson  rose; 
And  on  old  Hyems'  chin,  and  icy  crown, 
An  odorous  chaplet  of  sweet  summer  buds 
Is,  as  in  mockery,  set:  The  spring,  the  summer, 
The  childing  autumn,  angry  winter,  change 
Their  wonted  liveries  ;  and  the  mazed  world, 
By  their  increase,  now  knows  not  which  is  which. 

M.  N.  ii.  2. 

SEASON. 

Every  time 
Serves  for  the  matter  that  is  then  born  in  it.         A.  C.  ii.  2. 

SEASONABLE. 

'J'!.e  crow  doth  sing  as  sweetly  as  the  lark, 

\V  iit'D  neither  is  attended  ;  and,  I  think, 

Ttie  nightingale,  if  she  should  sing  by  day, 

When  every  goose  is  cackling,  would  be  thought 

No  better  a  musician  than  the  wren. 

How  many  things  by  season  season'd  are, 

To  their  right  praise,  and  true  perfection.  M.  V.  v.  1. 

SECLUSION. 

If  Caesar  hide  himself,  shall  they  not  whisper, 

Lo,  Caesar  is  afraid  ?  J.C.  ii.  2 

SECRECY. 

.  Stall  this  in  your  bosom.  A.  W.  i.  3. 

Masking  the  business  from  the  common  eye.  M.  iii.  1. 

When  you  have  spoken  it,  'tis  dead,  and  I  am  the  grave 

of  it.  A.  W.  iv.  3 

Give  it  an  understanding,  but  no  tongue.  H,  i.  £'. 

"Pis  in  my  memory  lock'd, 

And  you  yourself  shall  keep  the  key  of  it.  II.  i.  3. 

Thou  wilt  not  trust  the  air  with  secrets.          Tit.  And.  iv.  2, 
Be  thou  assur'd,  if  words  be  made  of  breath, 
And  breath  of  life,  I  have  no  life  to  breathe 
What  thou  hast  said  to  me.  H.  iii.  4 

1  know  you  wise  ;  but  yet  no  further  wise, 
Than  Harry  Percy's  wife  ;  constant  you  ar«  ; 


SEC        lijatapmiflii  IHrtioiinrij.       SED 


SECRECY,—  continued. 

But  yet  a  woman  :  and  for  secrecy, 

No  lady  closer  ;  for  I  well  believe, 

Thou  wilt  not  utter  what  thou  dost  not  know  ; 

And  so  far  will  I  trust  thee,  gentle  Kate. 

H.  IV.  PT.  i.  ii  .  3 
But  that  I  am  forbid 
To  tell  the  secrets  of  my  prison-house, 
I  could  a  tale  unfold,  whose  lightest  word 
Would  harrow  up  thy  soul.  H.  i.  5 

This  secret  is  so  weighty,  'twill  require 

A  strong  faith  to  conceal  it.  H.  V.  III.  ii.  1 

Two  may  keep  counsel,  putting  one  away.  B.  J.  ii.  4. 

A  juggling  trick  to  be  secretly  open.  T.G.  v.  2. 

SECURITY. 

Whole  as  the  marble,  founded  as  the  rock  ; 
As  broad  and  general  as  the  casing  air.  M.  iii.  4 

Shut  doors  after  you  :  Fast  bind,  fast  find  ; 
A  proverb  never  stale  in  thrifty  mind.  M.  V.  ii.  5. 

But  yet  I'll  make  assurance  doubly  sure, 
And  take  a  bond  of  fate.  M.  iv.  1. 

I  look'd  he  should  have  sent  me  two-and-twenty  yards  of 
satin,  as  I  am  a  true  knight,  and  he  sends  me.  —  security. 

H.IV.  FT.  n.  i.  2. 

A  rascally,  yea-forsooth  knave  !  to  bear  a  gentleman  in 
hand,  and  then  stand  upon  security  I  H.  IV.  PT.  n.  i.  2. 

SEDITION. 

Here  do  we  make  his  friends 
Blush,  that  the  world  goes  well  ;  who  rather  had 
Though  they  themselves  did  suffer  by't,  behold 
Dissentious  numbers  pestering  streets,  than  see 
Our  tradesmen  singing  in  their  shops,  and  going 
About  their  functions  friendly.  C.  iv.  6. 

These  things,  indeed,  you  have  articulated, 
Proclaim'd  at  market  crosses,  read  in  churches  ; 
To  face  the  garment  of  rebellion 
With  some  fine  colour,  that  may  please  the  eye 
Of  fickle  changelings,  and  poor  discontents, 
Which  gape,  and  rub  the  elbow,  at  the  news 
Of  hurly-burly  innovation  : 
And  never  yet  did  insurrection  want 
Such  water-colours  to  impaint  his  cause  ; 
Nor  moody  beggars,  starving  for  a  time, 
Of  pell-mell  havoc  and  confusion.  H.  IV.  PT.  i.  f.  1 

337  » 


SED       IjjabspBiirian  BiitiBttan;.       SEI 

SEDITION,— continued. 

The  spinsters,  carders,  fullers,  weavers,  who, 

Unfit  for  other  life,  compell'd  by  hunger    - 

And  lack  of  other  means,  in  desperate  manner 

Daring  the  event  to  th'  teeth,  are  all  in  uproar, 

And  danger  serves  among  them.  H.  VIII.  i.  2 

SEDUCTION. 

Then  if  he  says  he  loves  you ; 
It  fits  your  wisdom  so  far  to  believe  it, 
As  he,  in  his  particular  act  and  place, 
May  give  his  saying  deed ;  which  is  no  further, 
Than  the  main  voice  of  Denmark  goes  withal. 
Then  weigh  what  loss  your  honour  may  sustain, 
If  with  too  credent  ear  you  list  his  songs  ; 
Or  lose  your  heart ;  or  your  chaste  treasure  open 
To  his  unmaster'd  importunity.  H.  i.  3 

Ay,  so  you  serve  us, 

Till  we  serve  you :  but  when  you  have  our  roses, 
You  barely  leave  our  thorns  to  prick  ourselves, 
And  mock  us  with  our  bareness.  A.  W.  iv.  2. 

This  man  hath  witch'd  the  bosom  of  my  child : 
Thou,  thou,  Lysander,  thou  hast  given  her  rhymes, 
And  interchang'd  love  tokens  with  my  child  : 
Thou  hast  by  moonlight  at  her  window  sung, 
With  feigning  voice,  verses  of  feigning  love  ; 
And  stol'n  th'  impression  of  her  phantasy 
With  bracelets  of  thy  hair,  rings,  gawds,  conceits, 
Knacks,  trifles,  nosegays,  sweetmeats ;  messengers 
Of  strong  prevailment  in  unharden'd  youth : 
With  cunning  hast  thou  filch' d  my  daughter's  heart, 
Turn'd  her  obedience,  which  is  due  to  me, 
To  stubborn  harshness.  M.  N.  i.  1. 

0  cunning  enemy,  that  to  catch  a  saint, 
With  saints  doth  bait  thy  hook !  M.  M.  ii.  2. 

Many  a  maid  hath  been  seduced  by  them ;  and  the 
misery  is,  example,  that  so  terribly  shows  in  the  wieck  of 
maidenhood,  cannot  for  all  that  dissuade  succession,  but  that 
they  are  lim'd  with  the  twigs  that  threaten  them. 

A.W.  iii.5. 

Devils  soonest  tempt,  resembling  spirits  of  light. 

L.  L.  iv.  3. 

Beguiles  him,  as  the  mournful  crocodile 
With  sorrow  snares  relenting  passengers  ; 
Or  as  the  snake,  roll'd  in  a  flowering  bank, 
With  shining  checker'd  slough,  doth  sting  a  child, 
That,  for  the  beauty,  thir.ks  it  excellent.     H.  VI.  PT.  H.  iii.  L 
888 


SEE        IjjabspmiiiH  Diriinmirij.       SEN 

SEEING. 

I  have  a  good  eye,  uncb:  I  can  see  a  church  by  day-li  '  f 

M.  A.  u.  - 

SEEMING. 

Out  on  thy  seeming  !  I  will  write  against  it : 

You  seem  to  me  as  Dian  in  her  orb ; 

As  chaste  as  is  the  bud  ere  it  be  blown  ; 

But  you  are  more  intemperate  in  your  blood 

Than  Venus,  or  those  pamper'd  animals 

That  rage  in  savage  sensuality.  M.  A.  iv.  1 

SELF-CONCEITBD. 

The  best  persuaded  of  himself,  so  crammed,  as  he  thinks, 
with  excellencies,  that  it  is  his  ground  of  faith,  that  all,  that 
look  on  him,  love  him.  T.  N.  ii.  3. 

Look,  how  imagination  blows  him.  T.  N.  ii.  5. 

SELF-DENIAL. 

The  greatest  virtue  of  which  wise  men  boast, 

Is  to  abstain  from  ill,  when  pleasing  most.  Poems. 

SELF-GOVERNMENT. 

Virtue?  a  fig  I  'Tis  in  ourselves  that  we  are  thus,  or  thus. 
Our  bodies  are  our  gardens,  to  the  which  our  wills  are  gar- 
deners: so  that  if  we  will  plant  nettles,  or  sow  lettuce  ;  set 
hyssop,  and  weed  up  thyme ;  supply  it  with  one  gender  of 
herbs,  or  distract  it  with  many;  either  to  have  it  steiil 
with  idleness,  or  manured  with  industry  ;  why,  the  power 
and  corrigible  authority  of  this  lies  in  our  own  wills. 

O.  i.3. 

SELFISHNESS. 

Torches  are  made  to  burn  ;  jewels  to  wear ; 

Things  growing  to  themselves  are  growth's  abuse.    Poems. 

SELF-Lon 

Self-love  is  not  so  vile  a  sin 

As  self-neglecting.  H.  V.  ii.  4. 

0  villanous !  I  have  lived  upon  the  world  four  times  seven 
years ;  and  since  I  could  distinguish  between  a  benefit  and 
an  injury,  I  never  found  a  man  that  knew  not  how  to  love 
himself.  0.  i.  3. 

SENATORS. 

These  old  fellows 

Have  their  ingratitude  in  them  hereditary : 
Their  blood  is  cak'd,  tis  cold,  it  seldom  flows ; 
'Tis  lack  of  kindly  warmth,  they  are  not  kind ; 
And  nature,  as  it  grows  again  towards  earth, 
Is  fashioned  for  the  journey,  dull,  and  heavy.       T.  A.  u.  2 
339 


SEN        IjjabBjUiiriiui  Dirtiauartj.       sru 


SENTENTIOUS. 

By  my  faith  he  is  very  swift  and  sententious.         A.  F.  T.  4. 

SEPULCHRE. 

The  sacred  storehouse  of  his  predecessors, 

And  guardian  of  their  bones.  M.  il  4 

SERVANT,  UNPROFITABLE. 

The  patch  is  kind  enough,  but  a  huge  feeder, 

Snail-slow  in  profit.  M.  V.  ii.  5 

SET  PHRASES. 

0  !  never  will  I  trust  to  speeches  penn'd, 
Nor  to  the  motion  of  a  school-boy's  tongue  ; 

Nor  never  come  in  visor  to  my  friend  ; 

Nor  woo  in  rhyme,  like  a  blind  harper's  song  ; 
Taffata  phrases,  silken  terms  precise, 

Three-pil'd  hyperboles,  spruce  affectation, 
Figures  pedantical  ;  these  summer  flies 

Have  blown  me  full  of  maggot  ostentation  : 

1  do  forswear  them.  L.  L.  v.  2 

SEVERITY. 

Tear-falling  pity  dwells  not  in  this  eye.  R,  III.  iv.  2. 

SHAME. 

Heaven  stops  the  nose  at  it,  and  the  moon  winks  : 

The  bawdy  wind,  that  kisses  all  it  meets, 

Is  hush'd  within  the  hollow  mine  of  earth, 

And  will  not  hear  it.  0.  iv.  2 

Shame  enough  to  shame  thee,  wert  thou  not  shameless. 

H.  VI.  FT.  in.  i.  4 

A  sovereign  shame  so  elbows  him.  K.  L.  iv.  3 

0  shame  I  where  is  thy  blush  ?  H.  iii.  4. 

The  shame  itself  doth  speak  for  instant  remedy.    K.  L.  i.  4 
He  is  unqualitied  with  very  shame.  A.C.  iii.  9. 

Heaven's  face  doth  glow  ; 
Yea,  this  solidity  and  compound  mass, 
With  tristful  visage,  as  against  the  doom, 
fs  thought-sick  at  the  act.  H.  iii.  4. 

He  was  not  born  to  shame  ; 
Upon  his  brow  shame  is  asham'd  to  sit  ; 
For  'tis  a  throne  where  honour  may  be  crown'd 
Sole  monarch  of  the  universal  earth.  R.J.u\.1 

Fie,  fie,  they  are 

Not  to  be  nam'd,  my  lord,  not  to  be  spoke  cf  ; 
There  is  not  chastity  enough  in  language, 
Without  )ffence  to  utter  them.  M.  A.  IT  i 


SHE        lljiibsfuiinnn  fiirtionnrg.        SHJ 

SHEPHERD'S  PHILOSOPHY. 

I  know,  the  more  one  sickens,  the  w  orse  at  ease  he  in ; 
and  that  he  that  wants  money,  means,  and  content,  is  with- 
out three  good  friends: — That  the  property  of  rain  is  to 
wet,  and  fire  to  burn :  That  good  pasture  makes  fat  sheep ; 
and  that  a  great  cause  of  the  night,  is  lack  of  the  sun : 
That  he,  that  hath  learned  no  wit  by  nature,  nor  art,  mat 
complain  of  good  breeding,  or  comes  of  a  very  dull  kind- 
red. ^.Kiii.2. 

SHERIFF'S  OFFICER. 

One,  whose  hard  heart  is  button'd  up  with  steel ; 

A  fiend,  a  fairy,  pitiless  and  rough  ; 

A  wolf,  nay  worse,  a  fellow  all  in  buff; 

A  back-friend,  a  shoulder-clapper,  one  that  countermands 

The  passages  of  alleys,  creeks,  and  narrow  lands ; 

A  hound  that  runs  counter,  and  yet  draws  dry-foot  well ; 

One  that,  before  judgment,  carries  poor  souls  to  hell. 

C.E.iv.2. 

SHIPWRECKS  (See  also  SEA). 

The  king's  son,  Ferdinand, 

With  hair  up-staring,  (then  like  reeds,  not  hair,) 
Was  the  first  man  that  leap'd  ;  cried,  Hell  is  empty, 
And  all  the  devils  are  here.  T.  i.  2 

Not  a  soul 

But  felt  a  fever  of  the  mad,  and  play'd 
Some  tricks  of  desperation.  T.  i.  2 

In  few,  they  hurried  us  aboard  the  bark; 
Bore  us  some  leagues  to  sea ;  where  they  prepaid 
A  rotten  carcase  of  a  boat,  not  rigg'd, 
Nor  tackle,  sail,  nor  mast ;  the  very  rats 
Instinctively  had  quit  it :  there  they  hoist  us, 
To  cry  to  the  sea  that  roar'd  to  us ;  to  sigh 
To  the  winds,  whose  pity,  sighing  back  again, 
Did  us  but  loving  wrong.  2*.  i.  2 

To  comfort  you  with  chance, 
Assure  yourself,  after  our  ship  did  split, 
When  you,  and  that  poor  number  sav'd  with  you, 
Hung  on  our  driving  boat  I  saw  your  brother, 
Most  provident  in  peril,  bind  himself 
(Courage  and  hope  both  teaching  him  the  praotice) 
To  a  strong  mast,  that  liv'd  up<m  the  sea, 
Where,  like  Arion  on  the  dolphin's  back, 
I  saw  him  hold  acquaintance  with  the  waves, 
So  long  as  I  could  see.  T.  N.  i.  2 

And  not  one  vessel  'scape  the  dreadful  touch 
Qf  merchant-marring  rocks.  M.  V.  iii.  2 


siu        (jiaktiftfttUi  fHrtuiniUx,.        sia 

S  Jl  IP  WRECK,— continued. 

Yet  the  incessant  weepiags  of  my  win,, 

Weeping  before  for  what  she  knew  must  co<*. 

And  piteous  plaining  of  the  pretty  babes, 

That  mourn'd  for  fashion,  ignorant  what  to  fear, 

Forc'd  me  to  seek  delays  for  them  and  me.  C.  E.  i.  1 

DESCRIBED  BY  A  CLOWN. 

I  would,  you  did  but  see  how  it  chafes,  how  it  rages,  ho\\ 
it  takes  up  the  shore!  but  that's  not  to  the  point:  0,  the 
most  piteous  cry  of  the  poor  souls  1  sometimes  to  see  'em 
and  not  to  see  'em :  now  the  ship  boring  the  moon  with  her 
main-mast;  and  anon  swallowed  with  yeast  and  froth,  as 
;*ou'd  thrust  a  cork  into  a  hogshead.  And  then  for  the 
land  service, — To  see  how  the  bear  tore  out  his  shoulder- 
»one ;  how  he  cried  to  me  for  help,  and  said  his  name  was 
Antigonus,  a  nobleman : — But  to  make  an  end  o'  the  ship  : 
to  see  how  the  sea  flap-d-ragon'd  it : — but,  first,  how  the  poor 
souls  roar'd,  and  the  sea  mock'd  them  ; — and  how  the  poor 
gentleman  roar'd,  and  the  bear  mock'd  him,  both  roaring 
louder  than  the  sea,  or  weather.  W.  T.  iii.  3. 

SICK. 

Zounds !  bow  has  he  tlu  leisure  to  be  sick 

In  such  a  justling  time  1  H.  IV.  PT.  i.  iv.  1 

SIEGE  (See  also  CANNONADE) 

Tell  us,  shall  your  city  call  us  lord, 
In  that  behalf  which  we  have  challeng'd  it, 
Or  shall  we  give  the  signal  to  our  rage, 
And  stalk  in  blood  to  our  possession  ?  K.  J.  ii.  1 

Girdled  with  a  waist  of  iron, 
And  hemm'd  about  with  grim  destruction.   H.  VI.  FT.  i.  iv.  3 

These  flags  of  France,  that  are  advanced  here. 

Before  the  eye  and  prospect  of  your  town, 

Have  hither  march'd  to  your  endamagement : 

The  cannons  have  their  bowels  full  of  wrath  , 

And  ready  mounted  are  they  to  spit  forth 

Their  iron  indignation  'gainst  your  walls.  K.  /.  ii.  1 

SIFTING. 

See  you  now : 

Tour  bait  of  falsehood  takes  this  carp  of  truth  ; 
And  thus  do  we  of  wisdom  and  of  reach, 
With  windlaces,  and  with  assays  of  bias, 
By  indirections  find  directions  out.  J7.  ii  1 

SIGHS. 

U«  rais'd  a  sigh,  so  piteous  and  profound. 


SIG        Ijjnlusjirnriiiti  ihtinnanj.       SIM 

SIGHS, — continued. 

As  it  did  seem  to  shatter  all  his  bulk, 

And  end  his  being.  H.  ii.  1 

Blood-drinking  sighs.  H.  FT.  PT.  n.  iii.  2. 

Blood-sucking  sighs.  H.  FT.  FT.  ill,  iv.  4 

Iler  sighs  will  make  a  battery  in  his  breast ; 

Her  tears  will  pierce  into  a  marble  heart ; 

The  tiger  will  be  mild  while  she  doth  mourn  ; 

And  Nero  will  be  tainted  with  remorse, 

To  hear,  and  see,  her  plaints.  H.  FT.  FT.  in.  iii.  1. 

Eor  heaven  shall  hear  our  prayers ; 
Or  with  our  sighs  we'll  breathe  the  welkin  dim, 
And  stain  the  sun  with  fog,  as  sometimes  clouds, 
When  they  do  hug  him  in  their  melting  bosoms. 

Tit.  And.  iii.  1. 

Blood-consuming  sighs.  H.  FT.  FT.  n.  iii.  2. 

I  could  drive  the  boat  with  my  sighg.  T.  G.  ii.  3. 

Heart-sore  sighs.  T.  G.  ii.  4. 

Cooling  the  air  with  sighs.  T.  i.  2. 

SIGNS  OF  TUB  TIMES. 

And  in  such  indexes,  although  small  pricks 

To  their  subsequent  volumes,  there  is  seen 

The  baby  figure  of  the  giant  mass 

Of  things  to  come  at  large.  T.C.  \.  3. 

SILENCE. 

Hear  his  speech,  but  say  thou  nought.  H.  iv.  1. 

With  silence,  nephew,  be  thou  politic.         H.  VI.  PT.  i.  ii.  5. 

Silence  only  is  commendable 
In  a  neat's  tongue  dried,  and  a  maid  not  vendible. 

IT.  7.  LI. 

I  like  your  silence,  it  the  more  shows  off 
Your  wonder.  W.  T.  v.  3 


PERSUASIVE. 


The  silence,  often,  of  pure  innocence, 

Persuades,  when  speaking  fails.  W.  T.  ii.  2 

See,  see,  your  silence, 

Canning  in  dumbness,  from  my  weakness  draws 
My  very  soul  of  counsel.  T.C.  iii.  2. 

There  was  speech  in  their  dumbness.  W.  T.  v.  2. 

8IMILIES. 

A  good  swift  similie,  but  something  currish.          T.  S.  v.  2 
Thou  hast  the  most  unsavoury  similies.       H.  IV.  PT.  i.  i.2 

MS 


SIM        fffkiffmUi  ®irtinnan(. 

SIMPLICITY. 

It  is  silly  sooth.  W.  T.  iv.  3 

By  the  pattern  of  mine  own  thougths,  I  cut  out 
The  purity  of  his.  W.  T.  iv.  3 

How  green  are  you,  and  fresh  in  this  old  world  1    K.  J.  iii.  4 

SIN. 

Few  love  to  hear  the  sine  they  love  to  act.  P.  P.  i.  1, 

0,  'tis  the  cunning  livery  of  hell, 

The  damned'st  body  to  invest  and  cover 

In  princely  guards.  M.  M.  iii.  1. 

SINCERITY. 

Believe  me,  I  speak  as  my  understanding  instructs  me, 
and  as  mine  honesty  puts  it  to  utterance.  W.  T.  i.  1. 

SINFUL. 

Smacking  of  every  sin  that  has  a  name.  M.  iv.  3. 

SINGING. 

She  will  sing  the  savageness  out  of  a  bear.  O.  iv.  1. 

BAD. 

An  he  had  been  a  dog  that  should  have  howled  thus, 
they  would  have  hanged  him ;  and  I  pray  God  his  bad 
voice  bode  no  mischief.  M.  A.  ii.  3. 

Tax  not  so  bad  a  voice 
To  slander  music  any  more  than  once.  M.  A.  ii.  3. 

SINGULARITY. 

Methinks  you  prescribe  to  yourself  very  preposterously. 

M.  W.  ii.  2. 

SINNERS,  REFINED. 

Some  of  all  professions,  that  go  the  primrose  way  to  tht 
everlasting  bonfire.  M.  ii.  3. 

SLANDER  (See  also  CALUMNY). 

No  might  nor  greatness  in  mortality 

Can  censure  'scape ;  back-wounding  calumny 

The  whitest  virtue  strikes.  M.  M.  iii.  2 

For  haply,  slander, 

Whose  whisper  o'er  the  earth's  diameter, 
As  level  aa  the  cannon  to  his  blank, 
Transports  his  poison'd  shot,  may  miss  our  name, 
And  hit  the  woundless  air,  II.  iv.  1 

One  doth  not  know, 

How  much  an  ill  word  may  empoison  liking.       M.A.  iii. ) 
[  see,  the  jewel,  best  enamelled, 
Will  lose  his  beauty:  and  though  gold  'bides  still, 

144 


SLA        i{jflkr0pmian  Dirtiiiitanj.        SLA 

fi  LANDER,— continued. 

That  others  touch,  yet  often  touching  will 

Wear  gold :  and  no  man,  that  hath  a  name, 

But  falsehood  and  corruption  doth  it  shame,         C.  E.  ii.  1 . 

'Tis  slander  ; 

Whose  edge  is  sharper  than  the  sword ;  whose  tongue 
Out-venoms  all  the  worms  of  Nile  ;  whose  breath 
Rides  on  the  posting  wind,  and  doth  belie 
All  corners  of  the  world  ;  kings,  queens,  and  states, 
Maids,  matrons,  nay,  the  secrets  of  the  grave 
This  viperous  slander  enters.  Cym.  iii.  4. 

Many  worthy  and  chaste  dames  even  thus  (all  guiltless) 
meet  reproach.  0.  iv.  1. 

Calumny  will  sear  virtue  itself.  W.T.  ii.  1. 

I  will  be  hang'd,  if  some  eternal  villain, 
Some  busy  and  insinuating  rogue, 
Some  cogging  cozening  slave,  to  get  some  office, 
Have  not  devis'd  this  slander.  0.  iv.2. 

For  he 

The  sacred  honour  of  himself,  his  queen's, 
His  hopeful  son's,  his  babe's,  betrays  to  slander, 
Whose  sting  is  sharper  than  the  sword's.  W.  T.  ii.  3. 

Abus'd  by  some  most  villanous  knave  ! 
Some  base  notorious  knave,  some  scurvy  fellow : 
0,  heaven,  that  such  companions  thoud'st  unfold  ; 
And  put  in  every  honest  hand  a  whip 

To  lash  the  rascal  naked  through  the  world  !  O.  iv.  2. 

So  thou  be  good,  slander  doth  but  approve.  Poems 

If  thou  dost  slander  her,  and  torture  me, 
Never  pray  more :  abandon  all  remorse ; 
On  horror's  head  horrors  accumulate : 
Do  deeds  to  make  heaven  weep,  all  earth  amaz'd, 
For  nothing  canst  thou  to  damnation  add, 
Greater  than  that.  0.  iii.  3. 

A  slave,  whose  gall  coins  slanders  like  a  mint.       T.  C.  L  3 

SLANDERERS. 

That  dare  as  well  answer  a  man,  indeed, 
As  I  dare  take  a  serpent  by  the  tongue : 
Boys,  apes,  braggarts,  jacks,  milksops  ?  M.A.  v.  1 

Smiling  jack  thanks  and  base  newsmongers. 

H.  IV.  PT.  i.  ill  2, 

SLAVE  AT  LARGK. 

I  am  trusted  with  a  muzzle,  and  enfranchised  with  a  clog. 

M.A.  Li 

Ml 


SLA        Ijjnkrspnrinn  DhHnnnrij.        SLE 

BLAVISHNESS. 

Milk-liver'd  man ! 

That  bcar'st  a  cheek  for  blows,  a  head  for  wrongs, 
Who  hast  not  in  thy  brows  an  eye  discerning 
Thine  honour  from  thy  suffering  ;  that  not  know'st 
Fools  do  those  villains  pity,  who  are  punish'd 
Ere  they  have  dune  their  mischief.  K.  L.  1?..  2 

How  this  lord's  follow'd !  T.A.  i.  1 

With  plumed  helm  thy  slayer  begins  threats ; 
Whilst  thou,  a  moral  fool,  sit'st  still,  and  cry'st, 
Alack  1     Why  does  he  so?  K.  L.  iv. 2. 

0,  behold, 

How  pomp  is  follow'd.  A.  C.  v.  2. 

Seeking  sweot  savours  for  this  hateful  fool.          M.  N.  iv.  1. 
To  flatter  Caesar,  would  you  mingle  eyes 
With  one  that  ties  his  points  ?  A.  0.  iii.  2. 

To  say  ay,  and  no,  to  every  thing  I  said !  Ay  and  no  too, 
was  no  good  divinity.  K.  L.  iv.  6 

BLEEP. 

The  innocent  sleep : 

Sleep,  that  knits  up  the  ravell'd  sleave  of  care, 
The  death  of  each  day's  life,  sore  labour's  bath, 
Balm  of  hurt  minds,  great  Nature's  second  course, 
Chief  nourisher  in  life's  feast.  M.  ii.  2 

Please  you,  Sir, 

Do  not  omit  the  heavy  offer  of  it : 
It  seldom  visits  sorrow  ;  when  it  doth, 
It  is  a  comforter.  T.  ii.  1 

Weariness 

Can  snore  upon  the  flint,  when  restive  sloth 
Finds  the  down  pillow  hard.  Gym.  iii.  6 

How  many  thousands  of  my  poorest  subjects 
Are  at  this  hour  asleep  I    0  sleep,  0  gentle  sleep, 
Nature's  soft  nurse,  how  have  I  frighted  thee, 
That  thou  no  more  wilt  weigh  mine  eye-lids  down, 
And  steep  my  senses  in  forgetfulness  ? 
Why  rather,  sleep,  liest  thou  in  smoky  cribs, 
Upon  uneasy  pallets  stretching  thee, 
And  hush'd  with  buzzing  night-flies,  to  thy  slumber  ; 
Than  in  the  perfum'd  chambers  of  the  great, 
Under  the  canopies  of  costly  state, 
And  lull'd  with  sounds  of  sweetest  melody  ? 
O  thou  dull  god,  why  liest  thou  with  the  vile, 
In  loathsome  beds ;  and  leav'st  the  kingly  couofc 
A  watch-case,  or  a  common  'larum  bell? 
Mfi 


BLE        Ijiflbsjimiiiii  intinnanj.        SME 

SLEEP, — continued. 

Wilt  thou,  upon  the  high  and  giddy  mast, 

Seal  up  the  ship-boy's  eyes,  and  rock  his  brains, 

In  cradle  of  the  rude  imperious  surge ; 

And  in  the  visitation  of  the  winds, 

Who  take  the  ruffian  billows  by  the  top, 

Curling  their  monstrous  heads,  and  hanging  them 

With  deaf'ning  clamours  in  the  slippery  clouds, 

That,  with  the  hurly,  death  itself  awakes  ? 

Canst  thou,  0  partial  sleep !  give  thy  repose 

To  the  wet  sea-boy,  in  an  hour  so  rude : 

And,  in  the  calmest,  and  most  stillest  night, 

With  all  appliances  and  means  to  boot. 

Deny  it  to  a  king  ?     Then,  happy  low,  lie  down ! 

Uneasy  lies  the  head  that  wears  a  crown. 

H.  IV.  PT.  ii.  iii.  1 

The  deep  of  night  is  crept  upon  our  talk, 
And  Nature  must  obey  necessity.  J.C.  iv. 3 

Till  o'er  their  brows  death-counterfeiting  sleep 
With  leaden  legs  and  batty  wings  doth  creep.     M.  N.  iii.  2. 
Care  keeps  his  watch  in  every  old  man's  eye, 
And  whore  care  lodges,  sleep  will  never  lie.  R.  J.  ii.  3. 

To  bed,  to  bed :  Sleep  kill  those  pretty  eyes, 
And  give  as  soft  attachment  to  thy  senses, 
As  infants  empty  of  all  thought.  T.  C.  iv.  2 

Fast  asleep  ?     It  is  no  matter ; 
Enjoy  the  honey-heavy  dew  of  slumber ; 
Thou  hast  no  figures,  nor  no  fantasies, 
Which  busy  care  draws  in  the  brains  of  men ; 
Therefore  thou  sleep'st  so  sound.  J.C.  ii.  1. 

Sleep,  that  sometimes  shuts  up  sorrow's  eye,      . 
Steal  me  awhile  from  mine  own  company.  M.  N.  iii.  2. 

So  sorrow's  heaviness  doth  heavier  grow, 
For  debt  that  bankrupt  sleep  doth  sorrow  owe.     M.  N.  iii,  2. 
0  sleep,  thou  ape  of  death,  lie  dull  upon  her.        Cym.  ii.  2. 

SLOTH. 

What  pleasure,  Sir,  find  we  in  life,  to  lock  it  from  action 
and  adventure  ?  Cym.  iv.  4 

Sleeping  neglection  doth  betray  to  loss.     H.  IV.  PT.  i.  iv.  3. 

BMELL. 

What  have  we  here  ?  a  man  or  a  fish  ?  Dead  or  alive  I 
A  fish :  he  smells  like  a  fish ;  a  very  antient  and  fish-like 
smell.  T.  ii.  2. 

Master  Brook,  there  was  the  rankest  compound  of  vil- 
lanous  smells,  that  ever  offended  nostril.  M.  W.  iii.  5 


SMI       lljakespmiatt  lirtiottiinj.       SOL 

SMILES. 

When  time  shall  serve,  there  shall  be  smiles.        H.  V.  ii.  1. 

Some,  that  smile,  have  in  their  hearts,  I  fear, 

Millions  of  mischief.  J.  C.  IT.  1. 

-— - AND  TEARS. 

Patience  and  sorrow  strove 

Who  should  express  her  goodliest.    You  have  seen 
Sunshine  and  rain  at  once :  her  smiles  and  tears 
Were  like  a  better  day :  Those  happy  smiles, 
That  play'd  on  her  ripe  lip,  seem'd  not  to  know 
What  guests  were  in  her  eyes ;  which  parted  thence, 
As  pearls  from  diamonds  dropp'd.     In  brief,  sorrow 
Would  be  a  rarity  most  belov'd,  if  all 
Could  so  become  it.  K.  L.  iv.  ii 

SMITTEN. 

I  am  pepperM,  I  warrant,  for  this  world.  It.  J.  iii.  1 

SMOOTHNESS. 

Smooth  as  monumental  alabaster.  0.  v.  2 

SNAIL. 

Though  he  comes  slowly,  he  carries  his  house  on  his 
head,  and  brings  his  destiny  with  him,  his  horns  ;  he  comes 
armed  in  his  fortune,  and  prevents  tho  slander  of  his  wife. 

A.Y.  iv.l. 

SNORING. 

Thou  dost  snore  distinctly ; 
There's  meaning  in  thy  snores.  T.  ii.  1. 

SOCIETY. 

Society  is  no  comfort 
To*one  not  sociable.  Cym.  iv.  2. 

SOLDIER. 

A  try'd  and  valiant  soldier.  J,  C.  iv.  1. 

Soldiers  should  brook  as  little  wrongs,  as  gods.      T.  A.  iii.  5. 

Consider  this :  He  hath  been  bred  i'  the  wars 

Since  he  could  draw  a  sword,  and  is  ill-school'd 

In  boulted  language  ;  meal  and  bran  together 

He  throws  without  distinction.  C.  iii.  3. 

He  that  is  truly  dedicate  to  war,  hath  no  self-1  ve. 

//.  VI.  PT.  ii.  v,  2. 
C&nsider  further, 

That  when  he  speaks  not  like  a  citizen, 
You  find  him  like  a  soldier :  Do  not  take 
His  rougher  accents  for  malicious  sounds, 
liut,  as  I  say,  such  as  become  a  soldier.  C'. 


SOT,       lljaluspariun  Dittinnarij.       soi 

SOLDIE  R,— continued. 

The  armipotent  soldier.  A.  W.  iv.  3 

'Tis  the  soldiers'  life 
To  have  their  balmy  slumbers  wak'd  with  strife.       O.  ii.  3 

'Tis  much  he  dares  ; 

And,  to  the  dauntless  temper  of  his  mind, 
He  hath  a  wisdom  that  doth  guide  his  valour 
To  act  in  safety.  M.  iii.  1. 

A  braver  soldier  never  couched  lance, 

A  gentler  heart  did  never  sway  in  court.    H.  VI.  FT.  i.  iii.  2. 

I  am  a  soldier  ;  and  unapt  to  weep, 

Or  to  exclaim  on  fortune's  fickleness.  H.  VI.  FT.  i.  v.  3. 

Fye,  my  lord,  fye !  a  soldier  and  afraid  ?  M.  v.  1. 

Trailest  thou  the  puissant  pike  ?  H.  V.  iv.  1. 

Go  to  the  wars,  would  you?  where  a  man  may  serve  seven 
years  for  the  loss  of  a  leg,  and  have  not  money  enough  at 
the  end  to  buy  him  a  wooden  one  ?  P.  P.  iv.  6. 

Faith,  Sir,  he  has  led  the  drum  before  the  English  trage- 
dians,— to  belie  him  I  will  not, — and  more  of  his  soldiership 
I  know  not ;  except,  in  that  country,  he  had  the  honour  to 
be  the  officer  at  a  place  there  called  Mile  End,  to  instruct 
for  the  doubling  of  files :  I  would  do  the  man  what  honour 
I  can,  but  of  this  I  am  not  certain.  A.  W.  iv.  3 

All  furnish'd,  all  in  arms, 
All  plum'd  like  estridges  that  wing  the  wind ; 
Bated  like  eagles  having  lately  bath'd ; 
Glittering  in  golden  coats,  like  images ; 
As  full  of  spirit  as  the  month  of  May, 
And  gorgeous  as  the  sun  at  midsummer ; 
Wanton  as  youthful  goats,  wild  as  young  bulls. 

H.  IV.  FT.  i.  iv.  1. 

Tut,  tut ;  good  enough  to  toss  ;  food  for  powder,  food  for 
powder  ;  they'll  find  a  pit  as  well  as  better. 

H.  IV.  FT.  i.  iv.  2 


IN  LOVE. 


I  look'd  upon  her  with  a  soldier's  eve, 

That  lik'd,  but  had  a  rougher  task  in  hand 

Than  to  drive  liking  to  the  name  of  love : 

But  now  I  am  return'd,  and  that  war-thoughts 

Have  left  their  places  vacant,  in  their  rooms 

Come  thronging  soft  and  delicate  desires.  M.  A.  i.  i, 

May  that  soldier  a  mere  recreant  prove, 
That  means  not,  hath  not,  or  is  not  in  love  T.C.L& 

m 


SOT.       #Jjflk*sir*ttrtrt  Sirtinnnri}.       sot 

SOLDIER'S  DEATH. 

Your  son,  mv  lord,  has  paid  a  soldier's  debt : 

He  only  liv'a  but  till  he  was  a  man  ; 

The  which  no  sooner  had  his  prowess  confirmed, 

In  the  unshrinking  station  where  he  fought, 

But  like  a  man  he  died.  M.  T.  7. 

They  say  he  parted  well,  and  paid  his  score ; 

So  God  be  with  him,  M.  v.  7 

I  pray  you,  bear  me  hence 
From  forth  the  noise  and    rumour  of  the  field  ; 
Where  I  may  think  the  remnant  of  my  thoughts 
In  peace,  and  part  this  body  and  my  soul 
With  contemplation  and  devout  desires.  K.  J.  v.  £ 

So  underneath  the  belly  of  their  steeds, 

That  stain'd  their  fetlocks  in  his  smoking  blood, 

The  noble  gentleman  gave  up  the  ghost.  H.  VI.  PT.  HI.  ii.  3. 

Why  then,  God's  soldier  be  he  I 
Had  I  as  many  sons  as  I  have  hairs, 
I  would  not  wish  them  to  a  fairer  death : 
And  so  his  knell  is  knoll'd.  M.  v.  7 . 

SOLDIER,  A  PASSIVE  INSTRUMENT. 

To  be  tender-minded 

Does  not  become  a  sword : — Thy  great  employment 
Will  not  bear  question.  K.  L.  v.  3. 

It  fits  thee  not  to  ask  the  reason  why, 
Because  we  bid  it.  P.  P.  i.  1. 


-UNPRACTISED, 


That  never  set  a  squadron  in  the  field , 

Nor  the  division  of  a  battle  knows 

More  than  a  spinster.  0.  i.  1 

Mere  prattle  without  pactice, 
Is  all  his  soldiership.  0.  i.  1 

SOLICITATION. 

Frame  yourself 

To  orderly  solicits  ;  and  be  friended 
With  aptness  of  the  season.  Cym.  ii.  S 

SOLITUDE. 

How  use  doth  breed  a  habit  in  a  man  ! 
This  shadowy  desert,  unfrequented  woods, 
I  better  brook  than  flourishing  peopled  towns : 
Here  can  I  sit  alone,  unseen  of  any, 
And,  to  the  nightingale's  complaining  notes, 
Tuno  my  distresses,  and  record  my  woe§.  T.O.  r.  4. 

M 


SOM        JjjaluspBnriflti  Dirtinnartj.        son 

SOMNAMBULISM. 

A  great   perturbation  in  nature,  to  receive  at  once  the 
benefit  of  sleep,  and  to  do  the  effects  of  watching.    M.  v.  1. 

SONG. 

I  can  suck  melancholy  out  of  a  song,  as  a  weasel  sucks 
eggs:  More,  I  pr'ythee,  more.  A.T.  ii.  5. 

My  mother  had  a  maid  call'd  Barbara ; 

She  was  in  love  ;  and  he  she  lov'd  prov'd  mad, 

And  did  forsake  her  :  she  had  a  song  of  Willow, 

An  old  thing  'twas,  but  it  express'd  her  fortune, 

And  she  died  singing  it.  0  iv.  3 

She  bids  you 

Upon  the  wanton  rushes  lay  you  down, 
And  rest  your  gentle  head  upon  her  lap, 
And  she  will  sing  the  song  that  pleaseth  you, 
And  on  your  eye-lids  crown  the  god  of  sleep, 
Charming  your  blood  with  pleasing  heaviness, 
Making  such  difference  'twixt  wake  and  sleep, 
As  is  the  difference  betwixt  day  and  night, 
The  hour  before  the  heavenly-harnessed  team 
Begins  his  golden  progress  in  the  east       H.  IV.  PT.  i.  iii.  1. 

'Fore  heaven,  an  excellent  song.  0.  ii.  3. 

Why,  this  is  a  more  exquisite  song  than  the  other.   0.  ii.  3. 

Now,  good  Cesario,  but  that  piece  of  song, 

That  old  and  antique  song  we  heard  last  night ; 

Methought  it  did  relieve  my  passion  much ; 

More  than  light  airs  and  recollected  terms, 

Of  these  most  brisk  and  giddy-paced  times.  T.  N.  ii.  4 

It  hath  been  sung  at  festivals, 

On  ember  eves  and  holy  ales  ; 

And  lords  and  ladies  of  their  lives 

Have  read  it  for  restoratives.  P.  P.  i.  chorua 

Mark  it,  Cesario ;  it  is  old,  and  plain  ; 

The  spinsters,  and  the  knitters  in  the  sun, 

And  the  free  maids  that  weave  their  thread  with  bones, 

Do  use  to  chant  it ;  it  is  silly  sooth, 

And  dallies  with  the  innocence  of  love, 

Like  the  old  age.  T.  N.  ii.  4 

SONG,  POPULAR. 

No  hearing,  no  feeling,  but  my  Sir's  eong  ;  and  admiring 

the  nothing  of  it.  W.  T.  iv.  3. 

There's  scarce  a  maid  westward  but  she  sings  it :  'tis  in 

request,  I  can  tell  you.  W>  T.  iy,  3« 

IN 


SON        £jjfihj|Ufltii»  ihtinnnnj.        SOB 
SONG-BOOK. 

I  had  rather  than  forty  shillings,  I  had  my  book  of  songi 
and  sonnets  here.  M.  V.'i.  1. 

SONGSTERS,  NOCTURNAL. 

Shall  we  rouse  the  night  owl  in  a  catch  ?  T.  N.  ii.  3. 

SORROW  (See  GRIEF,  LAMENTATION,  TEARS). 
Sorrow  breaks  seasons,  and  reposing  hours, 
Makes  the  night  morning,  and  the  noon-tide  night. 

R.  UL  i.  4. 
Go,  count  thy  way  with  sighs  ; — I  mine  with  groans. 

R.  II.  v.  1 

When  sorrows  come,  they  come,  not  single  spies, 
But  in  battalions;  H.  iv.  5. 

One  sorrow  never  comes,  but  brings  an  heir, 

That  may  succeed  as  his  inheritor.  P.  P.  i.  4. 

'Tis  one  of  those  odd  tricks  which  sorrow  shoots 

Dut  of  the  mind.  A.C.\v.2. 

A  cypress,  not  a  bosom, 

Hides  my  poor  heart.  T.  N.  iii.  1 

0,  if  you  teach  me  to  believe  this  sorrow, 
Teach  thou  this  sorrow  how  to  make  me  die. 
And  let  belief  and  life  encounter  so, 
As  doth  the  fury  of  two  desperate  men, 
Which,  in  their  very  meeting,  fall,  and  die.          K.J.  iii.  1, 
How  ill  all's  here  about  my  heart  1  H,  v.  2, 

I  will  instruct  my  sorrows  to  be  proud ; 

For  grief  is  proud,  and  makes  his  owner  stout. 

To  me,  and  to  the  state  of  my  great  grief, 

Let  kings  assemble  ;  for  my  grief's  so  great, 

That  no  supporter  but  the  huge  firm  earth 

Can  hold  it  up ;  here  I  and  sorrow  sit ; 

Hero  is  my  throne,  bid  kings  come  bow  to  it.        K.  /.  iii.  1 

Cure  her  of  that : 

Canst  thou  not  minister  to  a  mind  diseas'd  ; 
Pluck  from  the  memory  a  rooted  sorrow ; 
Raze  out  the  written  troubles  of  the  brain ; 
And  with  some  sweet  oblivious  antidote, 
Cleanse  the  foul  bosom  of  that  perilous  stuff, 
Which  weighs  upon  the  heart  ?  M.  v.  3 

Impatience  waiteth  on  true  sorrow.  H.  TL  rr.  HI.  iii.  3 

For  gnarled  sorrow  hath  less  power  to  bite 
The  man  that  mocks  at  it,  and  sets  it  light.  R.  II.  i.  3 

Sorrow  ends  not  when  it  seemeth  done.  R.  II.  i  2 

HI 


SOR        lljiilusjimifln  ihtinnnrij.       eoc 

SORROW,— continued. 

All  strange  and  terrible  events  are  welcome, 

But  comforts  we  despise  ;  our  size  of  sorrrow, 

Proportion'd  to  our  cause  must  be  as  great, 

As  that  which  makes  it.  A.  C.  iv.  13. 

Weep  I  cannot, 
But  my  heart  bleeds.  W.  T.  Hi.  3. 

This  she  delivered  in  the  moat  bitter  touch  of  sorrow,  that 
e'er  I  heard  virgin  exclaim  in.  A.  W.  i.  3 

Down,  thou  climbing  sorrow,  thy  element's  below. 

K.  L.  U.  4. 

But  sorrow,  that  is  couch'd  in  seeming  gladness, 
Is  like  that  mirth  fate  turns  to  sudden  sadness.       T.C.  i.  1. 

This  sorrow's  heavenly, 

It  strikes  where  it  doth  love.  0.  T.  2. 

And  now  and  then  an  ample  tear  trill'd  down 
Her  delicate  cheek  ;  it  seem'd.  she  was  a  queen 
Over  her  passion  ;  who,  most  rebel-like, 
Sought  to  be  king  o'er  her.  K.  L.  iv.  3 

Her  nature  became  as  a  prey  to  her  grief;  in  fine,  made 
a  groan  of  her  last  breath,  and  now  she  sings  in  heaven. 

A.  W.  iv.  3. 

PARENTAL. 

My  grief 

Stretches  itself  beyond  the  hour  of  death ; 
The  blood  weeps  from  my  heart,  when  I  do  shape, 
In  forms  imaginary,  the  unguided  days, 
And  rotten  times  that  you  shall  look  upon 
When  I  am  sleeping  with  my  ancestors.     H.  IV.  PT.  n.  i  v.  5. 

• MANLY. 

One,  whose  subdu'd  eyes, 
Albeit  unused  to  the  melting  mood, 
Drop  tears  as  fast  as  the  Arabian  trees, 
Their  medicinal  gum.  0.  v.  2 


MOCKED. 


These  miseries  are  more  than  may  be  borne  ! 

To  weep  with  them  that  weep  doth  ease  some  deal, 

But  sorrow  flouted  at  his  double  death.          Tit.  And.  iii.  1. 


UNCALLED  FOR. 


The  tears  live  in  an  onion  that  should  water  this  sorrow. 

A.C.L2. 

SOUL. 

Though  that  be  sick  it  dies  not  H.  IV.  FT.  n.  ii.  £ 

«69  10* 


sou       ^ijafosBuriau  iirtinnart,        SP 


SOUL,  —  continued. 

Every  subject's  duty  is  the  king's,  but  every  subject's 
soul  is  his  own.  H.  V.  iv.  1. 

Mount,  mount,  my  soul,  thy  seat  is  up  on  high.    R.  II.  v.  5. 
Were  souls  do  couch  on  flowers,  we'll  hand  in  hand, 
And  with  our  sprightly  sport,  make  the  ghosts  gaze. 

A.O.iv.12. 

Since  thou  hast  far  to  go,  bear  not  along 
The  clogging  burden  of  a  guilty  soul.  R.  II.  i.  3. 

Swift-wing*  d  souls.  R.  in.  ii.  3. 

SOUR  LOOKS. 

How  tartly  that  gentleman  looks  !  I  never  can  dee  hinc 
but  I  am  heart-burned  an  hour  after.  M.  A.  ii.  1 

SPARE  FIGURE. 

He  was  the  very  genius  of  famine.  H.  IV.  PT.  n.  iii.  4. 

Tou  might  have  truss'd  him,  and  all  his  apparel,  into  an 
eel-skin  ;  the  case  of  a  treble  hautboy  was  a  mansion  for 
him,  a  court  ;  and  now  has  he  land  and  bees. 

H.  IV.  PT.  ii.  iii.  2. 

SPEECH  (See  also  RECITATION). 

Before  we  proceed  any  further,  hear  me  speak.  C.  i.  1. 

His  speech  sticks  in  my  heart.  A.O.  i.  5. 

I  would  be  loath  to  cast  away  my  speech  ;  for,  besides 
that  it  is  excellently  well  penn'd,  I  have  taken  great  pains 
to  con  it.  T.  N.  i.  5. 

"Tis  well  said  again  ; 

And  'tis  a  kind  of  good  deed,  to  say  well  : 
And  yet  words  are  no  deeds.  H.  VIII.  iii.  2. 

Spoke  like  a  spriteful  noble  gentleman.  K.  J.  iv.  2 

-  DISORDERED. 

And  when  he  speaks 

'Tis  like  a  chime  a  mending  ;  with  terms  unsquar'd, 
Which,  from  the  tongue  of  roaring  Typhon  dropt, 
Would  seem  hyperboles.  T.  C.  i.  3 

SPEED. 

0,  I  am  scalded  with  my  violent  motion 

And  spleen  of  speed  to  see  your  majesty.  K.  J.  v.  7. 

Bloody  with  spurring  ;  fiery  red  with  haste.         R.  II.  ii.  3. 

SPIRITS  (See  also  APPARITIONS,  GHOSTS,  ELVES,  FAIRIES). 

Why,  now  I  see  there's  mettle  in  thee  ;  and  jven,  from 
this  instant,  do  build  on  thee  a  better  opinion  than  eve* 
before,  O,iy.2, 

IM 


sr        ijpktifttriifl  Dirtunani.       SPO 

SPIRITS, — continued. 

Forth  at  your  ejes,  your  spirits  wildly  peep.  H.  iii.  4. 

That  gallant  spirit  hath  aspir'd  the  clouds.  R.  J.  iii.  1. 

The  spirit  of  the  time  shall  teach  ine  speed.  K.  J.  iii.  4. 

INFERNAL. 

Black  spirits  and  white, 

Red  spirits  and  grey  ; 

Mingle,  mingle,  mingle, 

You  that  mingle  may.  M.  iv.  1. 

Now,  ve  familiar  spirits,  that  are  cull'd 
Out  of*  the  powerful  regions  under  earth, 
Help  me  this  once.  H.  VL  PT.  i.  v.  3 

Glendower. — I  can  call  spirits  from  the  vasty  deep. 
Hat-spur. — Why,  so  can  I ;  or  so  can  any  man : 
But  will  they  come  when  you  do  call  for  them  ? 

H.  IV.  PT.  i.  iii.  1. 

Show  his  eyes,  and  grieve  his  heart ; 
Come  like  shadows,  so  depart.  M.  iv.  1. 

Infected  be  the  air  whereon  they  ride, 
And  damn'd  all  those  that  trust  them.  M.  iv.  1. 

SPIRITING. 

Pardon,  master : 

I  will  be  correspondent  to  command, 
And  do  my  spiriting  gently.  T.  i.  2. 

SPITE. 

'Sfoot,  I'll  learn  to  conjure  and  raise  devils,  but  I'll  see 
some  issue  of  my  spiteful  execrations.  T.C.  ii.  3. 

SPLEEN. 

Out,  you  mad-headed  ape ! 
A  weasel  hath  not  such  a  deal  of  spleen 
As  you  are  toss'd  with.  H.  TV,  PI.  i.  ii.  3. 

With  the  spleen  of  all  the  under  fiends.  C.  iv.  1. 

SPLENDOR. 

As  gorgeous  as  the  sun  at  midsummer.    H.IV.  PT.  i.ir.  1, 

It  stuck  upon  him,  as  the  sun 
In  the  grey  vault  of  heaven.  H.  IV.  PT.  ii.  ii.  3. 

SPORT. 

Sport  royal,  I  warrant  you.  T.  N.  ii.  3. 

Nay,  I'll  come ;  if  I  lose  a  scruple  of  this  sport,  let  me 
be  boiled  to  death  with  melancholy.  T.N.  ii.  5. 

Very  reverend  sport,  truly ;  and  done  in  the  testimony  of 
a  good  conscience.  L.  L.  iv.  2, 


SPO        $Jjnfo0pmtan  Sirtbititrij.       SF& 

SPORT,— continued. 

That  sport  best  pleases,  that  doth  least  know  how 
Where  zeal  strives  to  content,  and  the  contents 
Die  in  the  zeal  of  them  which  it  presents, 
Their  form  confounded  makes  most  form  in  mirth ; 
When  great  things  labouring  perish  in  their  birth. 

L  L.  v.  2 
It  is  admirable  pleasures  and  fery  honest  knaveries. 

M.  W.  iv  4 

There's  no  such  sport,  as  sport  by  sport  o'erthrown  • 
To  make  theirs  ours,  and  ours  none  but  our  own : 
So  shall  we  stay,  mocking  intended  game, 
And  they,  well  mock'd,  depart  away  with  shame. 

L.  L.  Y,  2 

I'll  make  one  in  a  dance,  or  so ;  or  I  will  play  on  the  taboi 
to  the  worthies,  and  let  them  dance  the  hay.          L.  L.  v.  1 

LADIES. 

Thus  men  may  grow  wiser  every  day  1  it  is  tho  first  timo 
that  ever  I  heard,  breaking  of  ribs  was  sport  for  ladies. 

A.Y.  i.2. 

SPOT  (See  also  BLOT,  STAIN). 

With  a  spot  I  damn  him.  J.C    .r  . 

SPRING. 

When  daisies  pied,  and  violets  blue, 
And  lady-smocks  all  silver-white, 
And  cuckoo-buds  of  yellow  hue, 
Do  paint  the  meadows  with  delight, 
The  cuckoo  then,  on  every  tree, 
Mocks  married  men,  for  thus  sings  he, 
Cuckoo,  cuckoo,  cuckoo.  0  word  of  fear, 
Unpleasing  to  a  married  ear  ! 
When  shepherds  pipe  on  oaten  straws, 

And  merry  larks  are  ploughmen's  clocks, 
When  turtles  tread,  and  rooks,  and  daws, 
And  maidens  bleach  their  summer  smocks. 

The  cuckoo  then,  &o.  L.  i    r.2 

When  well-apparell'd  April  on  the  heel 

Of  limping  winter  treads.  R.  w  I.  2 

SPRING  FLOWERS. 

0  Proserpina, 

For  the  flowers  now,  that,  frighted,  thou  let'st  fall 
From  Dis's  waggon  !  daffodils 
That  come  before  the  swallow  dares,  and  take 
The  winds  of  March  with  beauty ;  violets,  dim, 
But  sweeter  than  the  lids  of  Juno's  eyes, 
•j 


SPR       |>lj it kt spartan  iirtinnanj.        STB 

SPRING,— continued. 

Or  Cytherea's  breath ;  pale  primroses, 

That  die  unmarried,  ere  they  can  behold 

Bright  Phoebus  in  his  strength,  a  malady 

Most  incident  to  maids ;  bold  oxlips,  and 

The  crown  imperial ;  lilies  of  all  kinds, 

The  flower-de-luce  being  one.  W.T.  iv.  3 

STAIN  (See  also  BLOT,  SPOT). 

Out,  damned  spot:  out,  I  say.  M,  T.I. 

All  the  perfumes  of  Arabia  will  not  sweaten  this  little  hand. 

M.  v.  1, 

It  doth  confirm 
Another  stain,  as  big  as  hell  can  hold.  Gym.  ii.  4. 

The  more  fair  and  crystal  is  the  sky, 
The  uglier  seem  the  clouds  that  in  it  fly.  R.H.'\>  1. 

STALKING. 

I  shall  stalk  about  her  door, 
Like  a  strange  soul  upon  the  Stygian  banks, 
Staying  for  waftage.  T.  C.  iii.  2. 

STARE. 

Now  he'll  outstare  the  lightning.  A.C.  iii.  11. 

STARS  (See  also  PLANETARY  INFLUENCE). 

The  stars  above  us  govern  our  condition.  K.  L.  iv.  3. 

Diana's  waiting  women.  T.  C.  v.  2. 

STEALING. 

Convey,  the  wise  it  call :  Steal !  fob ;  a  fico  for  the  phrase. 

M.  W.  i.  3. 
Air  AT. 

Therefore,  to  horse ; 

And  let  us  not  be  dainty  of  leave-taking, 
But  shift  away  :  There's  warrant  in  that  theft, 
Which  steals  itself,  when  there's  no  mercy  left.      M.  ii.  3. 

STRANGE  OCCURRENCE. 

If  this  were  played  upon  a  stage  now,  I  could  condorrm  it 
as  an  improbable  fiction.  T.  N.  iii.  4. 

STRATAGEM. 

Saint  Dennis  bless  this  happy  stratagem. 

H.  VI.  PT.  i.  iii.  2 

STRENGTH. 

0,  it  is  excellent 

To  have  a  giant's  strength  ;  but  it  is  tyrannous 
To  use  it  like  a  giant.  M.  M.  ii.  2 

8fT 


«TR       ijriktfftiithi  iiiitmurq.       SUB 

STRIPLINGS,  MILITARY. 

Worthy  fellows ;  and  like  to  prove  most  sinewy  swordsmen. 

A.  W.  ii.  1. 

STRIKING. 

This  cuff  was  but  to  knock  at  your  ear,  and  beseech 
listening.  T.  S.  iv.  1. 

STUDY  (See  also  LIGHT). 

Study  is  like  the  heaven's  glorious  sun, 

That  will  not  be  deep  searched  with  saucy  looks ; 
Small  have  continual  plodders  ever  won, 

Save  base  authority,  from  others'  books.  L.  L.  i.  1. 

Why,  universal  plodding  prisons  up 

The  nimble  spirits  in  the  arteries ; 

As  motion,  and  long-during  action,  tires 

The  sinewy  vigour  of  the  traveller.  L.  L.  iv.  3. 

So  study  evermore  is  overshot ; 

While  it  doth  study  to  have  what  it  would, 

It  doth  forget  to  do  the  thing  it  should : 

And  when  it  hath  the  thing  it  hunteth  most, 

'Tis  won,  as  towns  with  fire;  so  won,  so  lost.         L.L.  i.  1. 

Biron. — What  is  the  end  of  study  ? 

King. — Why,  that  to  know,  which  else  we  should   not 
know. 

Biron. — Things  hid  and  barr'd,  you  mean,  from  common 
sense  ? 

King.—A.yt  that  is  study's  god-like  recompense. 

L.L.  i.  1. 

STUPEFACTION. 

I  have  drugg'd  their  possets 
That  death  and  nature  do  contend  about  them 
Whether  they  live  or  die.  M.  ii.  2. 

How  runs  the  stream  ? 
Or  I  am  mad,  or  else  this  is  a  dream.  T.  N.  iv.  1 

STYLE. 

Why,  'tis  a  boisterous  and  cruel  style, 

A  style  for  challengers.  A.  T.  iv.  3 

SUBJECTION. 

Condition  1 

What  good  condition  can  a  treaty  find 
I'  the  part  that  is  at  mercy  ?  C.  i.  10 

Why  this  it  is,  when  men  are  rul'd  by  women.    R.  Iff.  i.  I 

8M 


SUB        Sjjttkiijieitiafl  iutiouani.        sm 

SUBMISSION. 

You  shall  be  as  a  father  to  my  youth ; 

My  voice  shall  sound  as  you  do  prompt  mine  ear ; 

And  I  will  stoop  and  humble  my  intents 

To  your  well-practis'd,  wise  directions.      H.  IV.  PT.  n  v,  2. 

My  other  self,  my  counsel's  consistory, 

My  oracle,  my  prophet ! — My  dear  cousin, 

I,  as  a  child,  will  go  by  thy  directions.  3.  ILL  ii.  2 

-  • TO  THE  LAWS. 

If  the  deed  were  ill, 

Be  you  contented,  wearing  now  the  garland, 
To  have  a  son  set  your  decrees  at  nought ; 
To  pluck  down  justice  from  your  awful  bench  ; 
To  trip  the  course  of  law,  and  blunt  the  sword 
That  guards  the  peace  and  safety  of  your  person  : 
Nay,  more ;  to  spurn  at  your  most  royal  image, 
And  mock  your  workings  in  a  second  body. 
Question  your  royal  thoughts,  make  the  case  yours ; 
Be  now  the  father,  and  propose  a  son : 
Hear  your  own  dignity  so  much  profan'd  ; 
See  your  most  dreadful  laws  so  loosely  slighted, 
Behold  yourself  so  by  a  son  disdain'd ; 
And  then  imagine  me  taking  your  part, 
And,  in  your  power,  soft  silencing  your  son. 

H.IV.  PT.  H.  v.  2. 

SUFFERANCE. 

Of  sufferance  comes  ease.  H.  IV.  PT.  n.  v.  4 

SUFFERING,  UNJUST. 

Upon  such  sacrifices,  my  Cordelia, 

The  gods  themselves  throw  incense.  K.  L.  v.  3 

Why  should  hard-favour*d  grief  be  lodg'd  in  thee, 
When  triumph  is  become  an  ale-house  guest  ?      B.  II.  T.  L 

SUICIDE  (See  also  CONSCIENCE). 

Against  self-slaughter 
There  is  a  prohibition  so  divine, 

That  cravens  my  weak  hand.  Cym.  iii.  I 

To  be,  or  not  to  be,  that  is  the  question : — 
Whether  'tis  nobler  in  the  mind,  to  suffer 
The  stings  and  arrows  of  outrageous  fortune ; 
Or,  to  take  arms  against  a  sea  of  troubles, 
And,  by  opposing,  end  them  ?     To  die, — to  sleep,— 
No  more  ; — and,  by  sleep,  to  say  we  end 
The  heart-ache,  and  the  thousand  natural  shocks 
That  flesh  is  heir  to, — 'tis  a  consummation 
Devoutly  to  be  wish'd.    To  die  ;— to  sleep  ;--- 


sui     •  #£tkupmifri  iuiiiiirtf.       sn 

SUICIDE,— continued, 

To  sleep !  perchance  to  dream  ;  ay,  there's  the  rub : 

For  in  that  sleep  of  death  what  dreams  may  come, 

When  we  have  shuffled  off  this  mortal  coil, 

Must  give  us  pause :  there's  the  respect, 

That  makes  calamity  of  so  long  life : 

For  who  would  bear  the  whips  and  scorns  of  time, 

The  oppressor's  wrong,  the  proud  man's  contumely, 

The  pangs  of  despis'd  love,  the  law's  delay, 

The  insolence  of  office,  and  the  spurns 

That  patient  merit  of  the  unworthy  takes, 

When  he  himself  might  his  quietus  make 

With  a  bare  bodkin  ?  Who  would  fardels  bear, 

To  groan  and  sweat  under  a  weary  life  ; 

But  that  the  dread  of  something  after  death,— 

That  undiscover'd  country,  from  whose  bourn 

No  traveller  returns, — puzzles  the  will ; 

And  makes  us  rather  bear  those  ills  we  have, 

Than  fly  to  others,  that  we  know  not  of? 

Thus  conscience  does  make  cowards  of  us  all ; 

And  thus  the  native  hue  of  resolution 

is  sicklied  o'er  with  the  pale  cast  of  thought ; 

And  enterprises  of  great  pith  and  moment, 

With  this  regard  their  currents  turn  awry, 

And  lose  the  name  of  action.  H.  iii.  1 

Even  by  the  rule  of  that  philosophy, 

By  which  I  did  blame  Cato  for  the  death 

Which  he  did  give  himself: — I  know  not  how, 

But  I  do  find  it  cowardly  and  vile, 

For  fear  of  what  might  fall,  so  to  prevent 

The  time  of  life : — arming  myself  with  patience, 

To  stay  the  providence  of  some  high  powers, 

That  govern  us  below.  /.  C.  v.  I 

He  is  dead : 

Not  by  a  public  minister  of  justice, 
Nor  by  a  hired  knife  ;  but  that  self  hand 
Which  writ  his  honour  in  the  acts  it  did, 
Hath,  with  the  courage  which  the  heart  did  lend  it, 
Splitted  the  heart.  A.C.  v.  1, 

All's  but  naught ; 

Patience  is  sottish  ;  and  impatience  does 
Become  a  dog  that's  mad  :  Then  is  it  sin, 
To  rush  into  the  secret  house  of  death, 
Ere  death  dare  come  to  us  ?  A.  C.  iv.  13. 

The  more  pity,  that  great  folk  should  have  countenance 
in  this  world  to*drown  or  hang  themselves,  naors  than  their 
even  Christian.  3.  v.  1 


sui        lijalttspmiau  iirtinnnn;.       SUP 

SUICIDE,— continued. 

My  desolation  does  begin  to  make 

A  better  life :  'Tis  paltry  to  be  Caesar ; 

Not  being  Fortune,  he's  but  Fortune's  knave, 

A  minister  of  her  will:  And  it  is  great 

To  do  that  thing  which  ends  all  other  deeds  ; 

Which  shackles  accidents,  and  bolts  up  change.     A.C.  v.  2, 

Nor  stony  tower,  nor  walls  of  beaten  brass, 

Nor  airless  dungeon,  nor  strong  links  of  iron, 

Can  be  retentive  to  the  strength  of  spirit ; 

But  life,  being  weary  of  these  worldly  bars, 

Never  lacks  power  to  dismiss  itself.  J.C.  i.  3. 

Every  bondman  in  his  own  hand  bears 
The  power  to  cancel  his  captivity.  J.C.  i.  3, 

SUN  SETTING. 

The  weary  sun  hath  made  a  golden  set, 

And,  by  the  bright  track  of  his  fiery  car 

Gives  token  of  a  goodly  day  to-morrow.  R.  III.  v.  3. 

But  even  this  night, — whose  black  contagious  breath 

Already  smokes  about  the  burning  crest 

Of  the  old,  feeble,  and  day-wearied  sun, — 

Even  this  night  your  breathing  shall  expire  K.  J.  v.  4. 

SUPERFLUITY. 

To  gild  refined  gold,  to  paint  the  lily, 

To  throw  a  perfume  on  the  violet, 

To  smooth  the  ice,  or  add  another  hue 

Unto  the  rainbow,  or  with  taper-light 

To  seek  the  beauteous  eyo  of  heaven  to  garnish, 

Is  wasteful  and  ridiculous  excess.  K.  J.  iv.  2 

SUPERSCRIPTION. 

To  the  snow-white  baud  of  the  most  beautiful  Lady  Rosaline. 

L.  Z.iv.2. 

SUPERSTITION. 

Look  how  the  world's  poor  people  are  amaz'd 

At  apparitions,  signs,  and  prodigies  I  Poem*. 

The  superstitious  idle-headed  eld 

Receiv'd,  and  did  deliver  to  our  age, 

This  tale  of  Ilerne  the  hunter  for  a  truth.  M.  W.  iv.  4 

SUPPLICATION. 

A  sea  of  melting  pearl,  which  some  call  tears: 
Those  at  her  father's  churlish  feet  she  tender'd ; 
With  them,  upon  her  knees,  her  humble  self, 
Wringing  her  hands,  whose  whiteness  so  became  them, 
As  if  but  now  they  waxed  pale  for  woe,  T.  G.  iii.  {. 

86i  n 


SUR        $jjak?sji?nrian  iictionari[.       SWB 


SURETYSHIP. 

Is  not  this  a  lamentable  thing,  that  of  the  skin  of  an 
innocent  lamb  should  be  made  parchment  ?  That  parch- 
ment being  scribbled  o'er,  should  undo  a  man  ?  Some  say, 
the  bee  stings  :  but  I  say,  'tis  the  bee's  wax  :  for  I  did  but 
seal  once  to  a  thing,  and  I  was  never  mine  own  man  since. 

H.  VI.  PT.  ii.  iv.  2. 

SURFEIT. 

A  surfeit  of  the  sweetest  things, 
The  deepest  loathing  to  the  stomach  brings.         M.  N.  ii.  3. 

SURGES. 

The  murmuring  surge, 
That  on  the  unrmmber'd  idle  pebbles  chafes, 
Cannot  be  heard  so  high.  K.  L.  iv.  6. 

SURLY  COUNTENANCE. 

The  image  of  a  wicked  heinous  fault 

Lives  in  his  eye.  K.  J.  iv.  2. 

SUSPICION. 

Suspicion  always  haunts  the  guilty  mind.  ' 

H.  VI.  PT.III.  v.6. 

Indeed!  ay,  indeed:  Discern'st  thou  aught  in  that? 
Is  he  not  honest  ?  0.  iii.  3. 

It  is  a  damned  ghost  that  we  have  seen  ; 
And  my  imaginations  are  as  foul 

As  Vulcan's  stithy.  H.  iii.  2, 

Shall  be  all  stuck  full  of  eyes.  H.  IV.  PT.  i.  v.  2. 

I,  perchance,  am  vicious  in  my  guess, 
As,  I  confess,  it  is  my  nature's  plague 
To  spy  into  abuses  ;  and,  oft,  my  jealousy 
Shapes  faults  that  are  not.  0.  iii.  3. 

Foul  whisperings  are  abroad.  M.  v.  1. 

SWEARING. 

For  it  comes  to  pass  oft,  that  a  terrible  oath,  with  a  swag- 
gering accent  sharply  twanged  off,  gives  manhood  more 
approbation  than  ever  proof  itself  would  have  earned  him. 

T.  N.  iii.  4. 

When  a  gentleman  is  disposed  to  swear,  it  is  not  for  any 
standers  by  to  curtail  his  oaths.  Cym.  ii.  1. 

And  then  a  whoreson  jackanapes  must  take  me  up  for 
swearing  ;  as  if  I  borrowed  mine  oaths  of  him,  and  might 
not  spend  them  at  my  pleasure.  Cym.  ii.  1 

I'll  swear  upon  that  bottle  to  be  thy  true  subject,  for  thf 
liquor  is  not  earthly.  T-  !»•  2 


SWE      iiiakrsjmman  iuiiBft4f$.      SIM 

SWEETNESS. 

Your  words,  they  rob  the  Hybla  bees, 
And  leave  them  honeyless.  J.C.  T.  1 

Things  sweet  to  taste,  prove  in  digestion  sour.       R.  IL  L  3. 

SWIMMING. 

I  saw  him  beat  the  surges  under  him, 

And  ride  upon  their  backs ;  he  trod  the  water, 

Whose  enmity  he  flung  aside,  and  breasted 

The  surge  most  swoln  that  met  him ;  his  bold  head 

'Bove  the  contentious  waves  he  kept,  and  oar*d 

Himself  with  his  good  arms  in  lusty  stroke 

To  the  shore,  that  o'er  his  wave-worn  basis  txrwM, 

As  stooping  to  relieve  him  ;  I  not  doubt, 

He  came  alive  to  land.  T.u.l. 

Upon  the  word, 

Accoutred  as  I  was,  I  plunged  in, 
And  bade  him  follow :  so,  indeed,  he  did. 
The  torrent  roared  ;  and  we  did  buffet  it 
With  lusty  sinews  ;  throwing  it  aside 
And  stemming  it  with  hearts  of  controversy.          J.C.  i.  2. 

SWORD. 

A  sword  employed  is  perilous.      .  T,  C.  ii.  2. 

I  have  a  sword,  and  it  shall  bite  upon  necessity.    M.  W.  ii.  1. 

SWORDSMEN. 

Bodykins,  master  Page,  though  I  now  be  old,  and  of  the 
peace,  if  I  see  a  eword  out,  my  finger  itches  to  make  one : 
though  we  are  justices,  and  doctors,  and  churchmen,  master 
Page,  we  have  some  salt  of  our  youth  in  us.  M.  W.  ii.  3. 

SYMPATHY. 

You  are  merry,  and  so  am  I ;  Ha  I  ha  1  then  there's  more 
sympathy :  you  love  sack,  and  so  do  I ; — would  you  desire 
better  sympathy  ?  M.W.'ri.l. 

Grief  best  is  pleas'd  with  griefs  society. 

True  sorrow  then  is  feelingly  surpris'd 

When  with  like  feeling  it  is  sympathis'd.  Poem». 

Companionship  in  woe,  doth  woe  assuage.  Poem, 

Sweets  with  sweets  war  not ;  joy  delights  in  joy.        /tern*. 

Ay,  sooth  ;  so  humbled, 
That  he  hath  left  part  of  his  grief  with  me  ; 
I  suffer  with  him.  0.  iiL  8, 

Mine  eyes,  even  sociable  to  the  show  of  thine, 

Fall  fellowly  drops.  71  T.  t 


SYM       lljnknjirnnint  DirttBcarti.       SYM 

SYM  PA  Til  Y,— continued. 

0  I  have  suffered 

With  those  that  I  saw  suffer !  a  brave  vessel 
(Which  had,  no  doubt,  some  noble  creatures  in  her) 
Dash'd  all  to  pieces.     0,  the  cry  did  knock 
Against  my  very  heart  1     Poor  souls  1  they  perish'd. 

r.  i.  2 

Was  this  a  face 

To  be  expos'd  against  the  warring  winds  ? 
To  stand  against  the  deep,  dread-bolted  thunder  ? 

K,  L.  iv.  7. 

And  wast  thou  fain,  poor  father, 
To  hovel  thee  with  swine,  and  rogues  forlorn, 
In  short  and  musty  straw  ?     Alack  1  Alack  1 
"J'is  wonder,  that  thy  life,  and  wits,  at  once 
Had  not  concluded  all.  K.  L.  iv.  7. 

All  bless'd  secrets, 

All  you  unpublish'd  virtues  of  the  earth 
Spring  with  my  tears  !  be  aidant,  and  remediate, 
In  the  good  man's  distress.  K.  L.  iv.  4. 

The  mind  much  sufferance  doth  o'er-skip, 
When  grief  hath  mates.  K.  L.  iii.  6. 

That  I  am  wretcned, 

Makes  thee  the  happier :  Heavens,  deal  so  still  I 
Let  the  superfluous,  and  lust-dieted  man, 
That  slaves  your  ordinance,  that  will  not  see 
Because  he  doth  not  feel,  feel  your  power  quickly  ; 
So  distribution  should  undo  excess, 
And  each  man  have  enough.  K.  L.  iv.  1 

If  sorrow  can  admit  society 

Tell  o'er  your  woes  again  by  viewing  mine.        R.IIL  iv.  4 
Poor  naked  wretches,  wheresoe'er  you  are, 
That  bide  the  pelting  of  this  pitiless  storm, 
How  shall  your  houseless  heads,  and  unfed  sides, 
Your  loop'd  and  window'd  raggedness,  defend  you 
From  seasons  such  as  these  ?    0, 1  have  ta'en 
Too  little  care  of  this  I     Take  physic,  pomp  ; 
Expose  thyself  to  feel  what  wretches  feel ; 
That  thou  may'st  shake  the  superflux  to  them, 
And  «how  the  heavens  more  just.  K  L.  iii.  4 

Ml 


TAB        Ijjaiusiimuii  Uuttouanj.       TAI 


*. 

TABLE  TALK. 

Pray  thee,  let  it  serve  for  table  talk  ; 
Then,  howsoe'er  thou  speak' st,  'mong  other  things 
,  I  shall  digest  it.  M.  V.  iii.  5 

TAILOR. 

0,  monstrous  arrogance !     Thou  liest,  thou  thread, 

Thou  thimble. 

Thou  yard,  three-quarters,  half-yard,  quarter,  nail, 

Thou  flea,  thou  nit,  thou  winter  cricket  thou  : — 

Brav'd  in  mine  own  house  with  a  skein  of  thread  I 

Away,  thou  rag,  thou  quantity,  thou  remnant: 

Or  I  shall  so  be-mete  thee  with  thy  yard, 

As  thou  shalt  think  on  prating  whilst  thou  liv'st ! 

I  tell  thee,  I,  thou  hast  marr'd  her  gown.  T,  S.  iv.  3 

TAINT. 

The  dram  of  base 

Doth  all  the  noble  substance  often  dout 
To  his  own  scandal.  11.  i.  4 

TALE. 

I  shall  tell  you 

A  pretty  tale.  C.  i.  1 

I  w  ill  a  round  unv&rnish'd  tale  deliver.  0.  i.  3 

I'll  to  thy  closet ;  and  go  read  with  thee 
Sad  stones,  chanced  in  the  times  of  old.         Tit.  And.  iii.  2, 

A  sad  tale's  best  for  winter : 

I  have  one  of  sprites  and  goblins. 

***** 

I  will  tell  it  softly  ;  yon  crickets 

Shall  not  hear  it.  W.  T.  ii.  1. 

But  it  is  true, — without  any  slips  of  prolixity,  or  crossing 
the  plain  highway  of  talk.  M.  V.  iii.  1. 

An  honest  tale  speeds  best,  being  plainly  told.  R.  III.  iv.  4. 
Mark  how  a  plain  tale  shall  put  you  down. 

H.  IV.  PT.  i.  ii.  t 

or  WOK 

Floods  of  tears  will  drown  my  oratory 
And  break  my  very  utterance.  Tit.  And.  v.  3, 

In  winter's  tedious  nights  sit  by  the  fire 
With  good  old  folks  ;  and  let  them  tell  thee  tales 
Of  woeful  ages,  long  ago  betid ; 
Aud,  ere  thou  bid  good  night,  to  quit  their  grief, 

m  »• 


TAL       ^jjuluspmiau  Dirtiaiianj. 


TALE  OP  WOK,  —  continued. 

Tell  them  the  lamentable  fall  of  me, 

And  send  the  hearers  weeping  to  their  beds.        R.  II.  T.  1 

TALKER  (See  also  BABBLER). 

Why,  what  a  wasp-stung  and  impatient  fool 
Art  thou,  to  break  into  this  woman's  mood  ; 
Tying  thine  ear  to  no  tongue  but  thine  own  !  H.IV.  FT.  i.  i.3. 
If  you  be  not  mad,  be  gone  ;  if  you  have  reason,  be  brief; 
'tis  not  that  time  of  the  moon  with  me,  to  make  one  in  so 
skipping  a  dialogue.  T.  N.  i.  5. 

A  knave  very  voluble.  O.  ii.  1. 

TAPSTER. 

Five  years  1  by'r  lady,  a  long  lease  for  the  clinking  oi 
pewter.  H.  IV.  FT.  i.  ii.  4. 

That  ever  tits  fellow  should  have  fewer  words  than  a 
parrot,  and  yet  the  son  of  a  woman  1  His  industry  is  —  up 
stairs,  and  down  stairs  ;  and  his  eloquence,  the  parcel  of  a 
reckoning.  H.  IV.  FT.  i.  ii.  4. 

TAXATION. 

We  must  not  rend  our  subjects  from  our  laws, 

And  stick  them  in  our  will.     Sixth  part  of  each  ? 

A  trembling  contribution  !     Why,  we  take, 

From  every  tree,  lop,  bark,  and  part  o1  the  timber  ; 

And,  though  we  leave  it  with  a  root,  thus  hack'd, 

The  air  willdrink  the  sap.  H.  VIII.  i.  2. 

Large-handed  robbers  your  grave  masters  are, 

And  pill  by  law.  T.  A.  iv.  1. 

By  heaven,  I  had  rather  coin  my  heart, 

And  drop  my  blood  by  drachmas,  than  to  wring 

From  the  hard  hands  of  peasants  their  vile  trash, 

By  any  indirection.  J.  C.  iv  3. 

Come,  there  is  no  more  tribute  to  be  paid  :  our  kingdom 
is  stronger  than  it  was  at  that  time  ;  and,  as  I  said,  there 
is  no  more  such  Caesars  :  other  of  them  may  have  crooked 
noses  ;  but,  to  owe  such  straight  arms,  none.  Cym.  iii  1. 
The  commons  hath  he  pill'd  with  grievous  taxes, 
And  lost  their  hearts.  If.  II.  ii.  1. 

If  Caesar  can  hide  the  sun  from  us  with  a  blanket,  or  put 
the  moon  in  his  pocket,  we  will  pay  him  tribute  for  light. 

Cym.  iii.  1. 

TEARS  (See  also  GRIEF,  LAMENTATION,  SORROW). 

Heaven-moving  pearls.  K.  J.  ii.  ] 

Let  me  wipe  off  this  honourable  dew, 
That  silverly  dcth  progress  on  thy  cheeks: 
HP 


IEA        |jjnk?spBQriflii  Sutinuri;.       TBI 

TEARS, — continued. 

My  heart  hath  melted  at  a  lady's  tears, 

Being  an  ordinary  inundation  ; 

But  this  effusion  of  such  manly  drops, 

This  shower,  blown  up  by  tempest  of  the  soul, 

Startles  mine  eyes,  and  makes  me  more  amaz'd 

Than  had  I  seen  the  vaulty  top  of  heaven 

Figur'd  quite  o'er  with  burning  meteors.  K.  J.  v.  2 

Silver-shedding  tears.  T,  G.  iii.  1. 

Those  eyes  of  thine,  from  mine  have  drawn  salt  tears, 
Sham'd  their  aspects  with  store  of  childish  drops. 

R.IILi.2. 

My  manly  eyes  did  scorn  an  humble  tear ; 
And  what  these  sorrows  could  not  thence  exhale, 
Thy  beauty  hath  and  made  them  blind  with  weeping. 

R.  Ill  i.  2. 
Sad  unhelpful  tears.  H.  VI.  PT.  n.  iii.  1. 

I  did  not  think  to  shed  a  tear 
In  all  my  miseries  ;  but  thou  hast  forc'd  me, 
Out  of  thy  honest  truth,  to  play  the  woman.     H.  VIEL  iii.  2. 

And  wet  his  grave  with  my  repentant  tears.         R.  JUT.  i.  2. 

Thy  heart  is  big ;  get  thee  apart  and  weep, 

Passion,  I  see,  is  catching ;  for  mine  eyes, 

Seeing  those  beads  of  sorrow  stand  in  thine, 

Begin  to  water.  ,/.  C.  iii.  1. 

See,  see,  what  showers  arise, 
Blown  with  the  windy  tempest  of  my  heart. 

H.  VI.  PT.  in.  ii.  5. 

The  pretty  and  sweet  manner  of  it  forc'd 
Those  waters  from  me  which  I  would  have  stopp'd ; 
But  I  had  not  so  much  of  man  in  me, 
But  all  my  mother  came  into  mine  eyes, 
And  gave  me  up  to  tears.  H.  V.  iv.  6. 

Raining  the  tears  of  lamentation.  L.  L,  v.  2. 

Friends,  I  owe  more  tears, 
To  this  dead  man,  than  you  shall  see  me  pay.        J.C.  v. 3. 

The  best  brine  a  maiden  can  season  her  praise  in. 

A.W.  i.I. 

When  I  did  name  her  brothers,  then  fresh  tears 
Stood  on  her  cheeks ;  as  doth  the  honey  dew 
Upon  a  gather'd  lily  almost  wither'd.  Tit.  And.  iii.  1. 

And  he,  a  marble  to  her  tears,  is  washed  by  them,  and 
relents  not.  M.  M.  iii.  1. 


TEA       J&jiakjsjiBanatt  iirtinnnn|.        TKM 

TEARS, — continued. 

Trust  not  those  cunning  waters  of  his  eyes, 

For  villany  is  not  without  such  rheum  ; 

And  he,  long  traded  in  it,  makes  it  seem 

Like  rivers  of  remorse  and  innocency.  K  I.  IT.  3 

OPTICAL  ILLUSIONS  OF. 

Each  substance  of  a  grief  hath  twenty  shadows 

Which  show  like  grief  itself,  but  are  not  so : 

For  sorrow's  eye,  glazed  with  blinding  tears, 

Divides  one  thing  entire  to  many  objects  ; 

Like  perspectives,  which,  rightly  gaz'd  upon, 

Show  nothing  but  confusion  ;  ey'd  awry, 

Distinguish  form  :  so  your  sweet  majesty, 

Looking  awry  upon  your  lord's  departure, 

Finds  shapes  of  grief,  more  than  himself,  to  wail ; 

Which,  look'd  on  as  it  is,  is  nought  but  shadows 

Of  what  is  not.  R.  II.  ii.  2. 

Alas,  poor  man  I  grief  hath  so  wrought  on  him, 

He  takes  false  shadows  for  true  substances.     Tit.  And.  iii.  1. 


— — —  AND  SIGHS. 

The  tide  I  Why,  man,  if  the  river  were  dry,  I  am  able 
to  fill  it  with  my  tears ;  if  the  wind  were  down,  I  could 
drive  the  boat  with  my  sighs.  T.G.  ii.  l. 

TEDIOUSNESS. 

This  will  last  out  a  night  in  Russia, 

When  nights  are  longest  there :  I'll  take  my  leave, 

And  leave  you  to  the  hearing  of  the  cause  ; 

Hoping  you'll  find  good  cause  to  whip  them  all.     M.  M.  ii.  1 

Neighbours,  you  are  tedious.  M.  A.  iii.  5 

But,  truly,  for  mine  own  part,  if  I  were  as  tedious  as  a 
king,  I  could  find  in  my  heart  to  bestow  it  all  of  joui 
worship.  M.  A.  iii.  5. 

TEMPERANCE. 

Ask  God  for  temperance,  that's  the  appliance  only 
Which  your  disease  requires.  H.  VUI.  i.  1 

TEMPERS. 

Now,  by  two-headed  Janus, 
Nature  hath  form'd  strange  fellows  in  her  time : 
Some  that  will  evermore  peep  through  their  eyes, 
And  laugh,  like  parrots,  at  a  bagpiper ; 
And  other  of  such  vinegar  aspect, 
That  they'll  not  show  their  teeth  in  way  of  smile, 
Though  Nestor  swear  the  jest  be  laughable.  M.  V.  i.  k 

Hi 


TEM      &jj(Tlus{nario  Dirtinnartj.       TEM 

TEMPEST. 

Methinks,  the  wind  hath  spoke  aloud  at  land : 

A  fuller  blast  ne'er  shook  our  battlements : 

If  it  hath  ruffian'd  so  upon  the  sea, 

What  ribs  of  oak,  when  mountains  melt  on  them, 

Can  hold  the  mortise?  0.  ii.  1 

The  night  has  been  unruly ;  where  we  lay, 

Our  cliiumeys  were  blown  down  :  and,  as  they  say, 

Lamentings  heard  i'  th'  air : — some  say  the  earth 

Was  feverous,  and  did  shake.  M.  ii.  3 

The  wrathful  skies 

Gallow  the  very  wanderers  of'  the  dark, 
And  make  them  keep  their  caves :  since  I  was  man, 
Such  sheets  of  fire,  such  bursts  of  horrid  thunder, 
Such  groans  of  roaring  wind  and  rain,  I  never 
Remember  to  have  heard.  K.  L.  iii.  2. 

Flam'd  amazement.  T.  i.  2. 

?or  do  but  stand  upon  the  foaming  shore, 
Ihe  chiding  billows  seem  to  pelt  the  clouds ; 
The  wind-shak'd  surge,  with  high,  and  monstrous  main, 
Seems  to  cast  water  on  the  burning  bear, 
And  quench  the  guards  of  the  ever-fixed  pole : 
I  never  did  like  molestation  view, 
On  the  enchafed  flood.  0.  ii.  1. 

The  fire,  and  cracks 

Of  sulphurous  roaring,  the  most  mighty  Neptune 
Seem'd  to  besiege,  and  make  his  bold  waves  tremble, 
Yea,  his  dread  trident  shake.  T.  i.  2. 

Are  not  you  mov'd,  when  all  the  sway  of  earth 
Shakes,  like  a  thing  unfirm  ?     0  Cicero ! 
I  have  seen  tempests,  when  the  scolding  winds 
Have  riv'd  the  knotty  oaks ;  and  I  have  seen 
Th'  ambitious  ocean  swell,  and  rage,  and  foam, 
To  be  exalted  with  the  threatening  clouds  ; 
But  never  till  to  night,  never  till  now, 
Did  I  go  through  a  tempest  dropping  fire. 
Either  there  is  a  civil  strife  in  heaven  ; 
Or  else  the  world,  too  saucy  with  the  gods, 
Incenses  them  to  send  destruction.  J.C.  i.  3. 

I  have  seen  two  such  sights,  by  sea,  and  by  land  ; — but  I 
am  not  to  say,  it  is  a  sea,  for  it  is  now  the  sky ;  betwixt  the 
firmament  and  it,  you  cannot  thrust  a  bodkin's  point. 

W.  T.  iii.  3 

Let  the  great  gods 

That  keep  this  dreadful  pother  o'er  our  heads, 
Find  out  their  enemies  now.     Tremble,  thou  wretch, 


jjnktsjininnti  Dirttnnnrij.        TSB 


TEMPEST,—  continued. 

That  hast  within  tdee  undivulged  crimes, 

Unwhipp'd  of  justice:  Hide  thee,  thou  bloody  band 

That  perjurM,  and  thou  simular  man  of  virtue, 

LMiat  art  incestuous  :  Caitiff,  to  pieces  shake, 

That  under  covert  and  convenient  seeming 

Hast  practis'd  on  man's  life!  Close  pent-up  guilts, 

Rive  your  concealing  continents,  and  cry 

These  dreadful  summoners  grace.     I  am  a  man, 

More  sinn'd  against  than  sinning.  K.  L<  iii.  2, 

TEMPTATION. 

There  lurks  a  still  and  dumb-discoursive  devil, 

That  tempts  most  cunningly.  T.  C.  iv.  4, 

'Tis  one  thing  to  be  tempted,  Escalus, 

Another  thing  to  fall.  M.  M.  ii.  ]. 

Most  dangerous 

Is  that  temptation,  that  doth  goad  us  on 
To  sin  in  loving  virtue.  M.  M.  ii,  2 

Let  but  your  honour  know, 
(Whom  I  believe  to  be  most  straight  in  virtue) 
That,  in  the  workings  of  your  own  affections, 
Had  time  cohered  with  place,  or  place  with  wishing, 
Or  that  the  resolute  acting  of  your  blood 
Could  have  attain'd  th'  effect  of  your  own  purpose, 
Whether  you  had  not  sometime  in  your  life 
Err'd  in  this  point,  which  now  you  censure  him, 
And  pull'd  the  law  upon  you.  M.  M.  ii.  1, 

I  am  that  way  going  to  temptation, 
Where  prayers  cross.  M.  M.  ii.  2 

Sometimes  we  are  devils  to  ourselves, 
When  we  will  tempt  the  frailty  of  our  powers, 
Presuming  on  their  changeful  potency.  T.  O.  iv.  4. 

TERROR. 

Alas  1  how  is't  with  you  ? 

That  you  do  bend  your  eye  on  vacancy, 

And  with  the  incorporal  air  do  hold  discourse  ? 

Forth  at  your  eyes  your  spirits  wildly  peep, 

And,  as  the  sleeping  soldiers  in  the  alarm, 

Your  bedded  hair,  like  life  in  excrements, 

Starts  up,  and  stands  on  end.  H.  iii.  4 

Thrice  he  walk'd 

By  their  oppress'd  and  fear  suprised  eyes, 
Within  his  truncheon's  length  ;  whilst  they,  distill'd 
Almost  to  jelly  with  the  act  of  fear, 
Stand  dumb,  and  speak  not  to  him.  H.  i.  2. 

870 


TER       IjjnluspEariflii  iirtinnarij.       THI 

TERKOK,— continued. 

Take  any  shape  but'that,  and  my  firm  nerves 

Shall  never  tremble.  M.m.Z. 

THANKS. 

When  a  man  thanks  me  heartily,  methinks,  I  have  given 
him  a  penny,  and  he  renders  me  the  beggarly  thanks. 

A.T.  ii.5, 
Often  good  turns 

Are  shuffled  off  with  such  uncurrent  pay : 
But,  were  my  worth,  as  is  my  conscience,  firm, 
Fo-u  should  find  better  dealing.  T.  JV.  iii.3. 

Evermore  thanks,  the  exchequer  of  the  poor ; 
Which,  till  my  infant  fortune  come  to  years, 
Stands  for  my  bounty.  R.  II.  ii.  2. 

THEME. 

It  would  be  argument  for  a  week,  laughter  for  a  month, 
and  a  good  jest  for  ever.  H.  IV.  FT.  i.  ii.  2. 

IHIEF,  THIEVERY. 

He  will  steal,  Sir,  an  egg  out  of  a  cloistei.  A.W.  iv.  3. 

What  simple  thief  brags  of  his  own  attaint  ?       C.  E.  iii.  2. 
A  plague  upon't,  when  thieves  cannot  be  true  to  one  another  I 

H.IV.  FT.i.ii.2. 
Yet  thanks  I  must  you  con, 
That  you  are  thieves  profest ;  that  you  work  not 
In  holier  shapes  :  for  there  is  boundless  theft 
In  limited  professions.  T.  A.  ir.  S> 

Rascal  thieves, 

Here's  gold :  Go,  sack  the  subtle  blood  of  the  grape, 
Till  the  high  fever  seeth  your  blood  to  froth, 
And  so  'scape  hanging:  trust  not  the  physician; 
His  antidotes  are  poison,  and  he  slays 
More  than  you  rob :  take  wealth  and  lives  together : 
Do  villany,  do,  since  you  profess  to  do't, 
Like  workmen.     I'll  example  you  with  thievery : 
The  sun's  a  thief,  and  with  his  great  attraction 
Robs  the  vast  sea ;  the  moon's  an  arrant  thief, 
And  her  pale  fire  she  snatches  from  the  sun : 
The  sea's  a  thief,  whose  liquid  surge  resolves 
The  moon  into  salt  tears :  the  earth's  a  thief, 
That  feeds  and  breeds  by  a  composture  stolen 
From  general  excrement :  each  thing's  a  thief, 
The  law's  your  curb  and  whip,  in  their  rough  powei 
Have  uncheck'd  theft.     Love  not  yourselves ;  away ; 
Rob  one  another.     There's  more  gold  •  Cut  throats ; 
All  that  you  meet  are  thieves :  To  Athens,  go, 

•r 


TIII        lijalUHjUimatt  iirtinimrij.       TUB 

nilEF,— continued. 

Break  shops  ;  nothing  can  you  steal, 

But  thieves  do  lose  it.  T,  A.  IT.  3. 

Master,  be  one  of  them ; 
It  is  an  honourable  kind  of  thievery.  T.Q.  iv.  1. 

THORNY  POINT. 

0,  that  way  madness  lies  ;  let  me  shun  that ; 

No  more  of  that.  K.  L.  iii.  4. 

THOUGHT. 

In  the  quick  forge  and  working  house  of  thought. 

H.  V.  v.  chorus. 
Jumping  o'er  times ; 

Turning  the  accomplishment  of  many  years 
Into  an  hour-glass.  H.  V.  i.  chorus 

Sky-aspiring  and  ambitious  thoughts.  R.  II.  i.  3 

A  generation  of  still-breeding  thoughts, 
And  these  same  thoughts  people  this  little  world  ; 
In  humours,  like  the  people  of  this  world, 
For  no  thought  is  contented.  R.  II.  v.  5. 

TIIOUGIITFULNESS. 

Why,  he  stalks  up  and  down  like  a  peacock,  a  stride  and 
a  stand ;  ruminates,  like  an  hostess  that  hath  no  arithmetic 
but  her  brain  to  set  down  her  reckoning;  bites  his  lip  with 
a  politic  regard,  as  who  should  say, — there  were  wit  in  hia 
head,  an  'twould  out;  and  so  there  is ;  but  it  lies  as  coldly  in 
him  as  fire  in  a  flint,  which  will  not  show  without  knocking. 

ziouts. 

My  lord,  we  have 

Stood  here  observing  him  ;  some  strange  commotion 
Is  in  his  brain  ;  he  bites  his  lip,  and  starts  ; 
Stops  cm  a  sudden,  looks  upon  the  ground, 
Then  lays  his  finger  on  his  temple  ;  straight, 
Springs  out  into  fast  gait,  then,  stops  again, 
Strikes  his  breast  hard  ;  and  anon,  he  casts 
His  eye  against  the  moon  ;  in  most  strange  postures 
We  have  seen  him  set  himself.  HI  VIII.  iii.  2 

There  is  a  mutiny  in  his  mind.  H.  VIII.  iii.  2 

THREAT. 

Unmanner'd  dog  1  stand  thou  when  I  command  • 

Advance  thy  halberd  higher  than  my  breast, 

Or,  by  St.  Paul,  I'll  strike  tnee  to  my  foot, 

And  spurn  upon  thee,  beggar,  for  thy  boldness.  R.  III.  i.  2 

Priest,  beware  your  beard  ; 
I  mean  to  tug  it,  and  to  cuff  you  soundly ; 


T-HR       |jjnkrs|inirimi  9ittiiiit|.       THB 

THRE  A  T, — continued. 

Under  my  feet  I  stamp  thy  cardinal's  hat ; 

In  spite  of  pope  or  dignities  of  church, 

Here  by  the  cheeks  I'll  drag  thee  up  and  down. 

H.VL  px.i.i.2. 
Unhand  me,  gentlemen  ; — 
By  heaven,  I'll  make  a  ghost  of  him  that  lets  me.     H.  i.  4. 

What  say  you  ?    Hence, 
Horrible  villain  I  or  I'll  spurn  thine  eyes 
Like  balls  before  me ;  I'll  unhair  thy  head  ; 
Thou  shalt  be  whipp'd  with  wire,  and  stew'd  in  brine, 
Smarting  in  lingering  pickle.  A.  C.  ii.  $ 

Therefore  hence,  begone  : — 
But  if  thou,  jealous,  dost  return  to  pry 
In  what  I  further  shall  intend  to  do, 
By  heaven,  I  will  tear  thee,  joint  by  joint, 
And  strew  this  hungry  church-yard  with  thy  limbs  • 
The  time  and  my  intents  are  savage  wild  ; 
More  fierce,  and  more  inexorable  far, 
Than  empty  tigers,  or  the  roaring  sea.  R.  J.  v.  3 

By  my  soul, 

Your  long  coat,  priest,  protects  you  ;  thou  shoulds't  feel 
My  sword  i'  the  blood  of  thee  else. — My  lords, 
Can  ye  endure  to  hear  this  arrogance? — 
And  from  this  fellow  ?  H.  VIH.  iii.  2 

Why,  how  now,  ho  !  from  whence  ariseth  this  ? 

Are  we  turn'd  Turks ;  and  to  ourselves  do  that 

Which  heaven  hath  forbid  the  Ottomites  ? 

For  Christian  shame,  put  by  this  barbarous  brawl : 

He  that  stirs  next  to  carve  for  his  own  rage, 

Holds  his  soul  light ;  he  dies  upon  his  motion.          0.  ii.  3 

For  your  partaker,  Poole,  and  you  yourself, 
I'll  note  you  in  my  book  of  memory, 
To  scourge  you  for  this  apprehension. 
Look  to  it  well ;  and  say  you  are  well  warn'd. 

H.  VI.  FT.  i.  ii.  4. 
That  roars  so  loud  and  thunders  in  the  index.          //.  iii.  4 

If  thou  neglecf  st,  or  dost  unwillingly 

What  I  command,  I'll  rack  thee  with  old  cramps : 

Fill  all  thy  bones  with  achds,  make  thee  roar, 

That  beasts  shall  tremble  at  thy  din.  T.  i.  2 

And  he  that  throws  not  up  his  cap  for  joy, 
Shall  for  the  fault  make  forfeit  of  his  head. 

H.  VI.  FT.  iii.  ii.  1 

m  «* 


fc, 


THREAT,— continued. 

If  thou  more  murmur'st,  I  will  rend  an  oat, 

And  peg  thee  in  his  knotty  entrails,  till 

Thou  hast  howl'd  away  twelve  winters.  T.  i.  2 

Well,  go,  muster  men.    But,  hear  you,  leave  behind 

Your  son,  George  Stanley :  look  your  heart  be  firm, 

Or  else  his  head's  assurance  is  but  frail.  R.UI,  iv.  • 

THRIFT. 

This  was  a  way  to  thrive,  and  he  was  blest ; 

And  thrift  is  blessing,  if  men  steal  it  not.  M.  V.  i.  3 

THUNDER  (See  TEMPEST). 

TIME  (See  also  LIFE,  MAN). 

I, — that  please  some,  try  all ;  both  joy,  and  terror, 
Of  good  and  bad ;  that  make,  and  unfold  error. 

W.T.  iv.  chorus 

Cormorant  devouring  time.  L.  L.  i.  1 

What's  past,  and  what's  to  come,  is  strew'd  with  husks, 
And  formless  ruin  of  oblivion.  T.  C.  iv.  5 

Let  me  pass : — 

The  same  I  am,  ere  antient  order  was, 
Or  what  is  now  receiv'd.     I  witness  to 
The  times  that  brought  them  in  ;  so  shall  I  do 
To  the  freshest  things  now  reigning,  and  make  stale 
The  glistering  of  this  present.  W.T.  iv.  chorus 

Beauty,  wit, 

High  birth,  vigour  of  bone,  desert  in  service 
Love,  friendship,  charity,  are  subjects  all 
To  envious  and  calumniating  time.  T.C.  iii.  3.1 

Come  what  come  may, 
Time  and  the  hour  run  through  the  roughest  day.     M.  i.  3. ' 

It  is  in  my  power 

To  o'erthrow  law,  and  in  one  self-born  hour, 
To  plant  and  o'erwhelm  custom.  W.  T.  iv.  chorus? 

What's  past  is  prologue.  T.  ii.  1] 

Well,  thus  we  play  the  fools  with  the  time  ;  and  the 
«k      spirits  of  the  wise  sit  in  the  clouds  and  mock  us. 

H.  IV.  PT.  ii.  ii.  2^ 

Let's  take  the  instant  by  the  forward  top ; 
JX    For  we  are  old,  and  on  our  quick'st  decrees 

The  inaudible  and  noiseless  foot  of  time  ^ 

Steals  ere  we  cab  effect  them.  A  W.  T.  3, 

It  is  ten  o'clock  ;  j 

Thus  may  we  see,  quoth  he,  how  the  world  wags  ; 

V 


W 

'Sfe 


TIM        Ijjakrffpariiiii  iutinnanj.        TIK 

TIME, — continued. 

'Tis  but  an  hour  ago,  since  it  was  nine  ; 
And  after  an  hour  more,  'twill  be  eleven ; 
And  so,  from  hour  to  hour,  we  ripe  and  ripe, 
And  then,  from  hour  to  hour,  we  rot,  and  rot, 
And  thereby  hangs  a  tale.  A.  T.  ii.  7. 

O,  the  mad  days  that  I  have  spent !  and  to  see  how  many 
of  mine  old  acquaintance  are  dead  1  H.  IV.  PT.  n.  iii.  2. 

Time  travels  in  divers  paces  with  divers  persons.  He 
ambles  with  a  priest  that  lacks  Latin,  and  a  rich  man  that 
hath  not  the  gout:  for  the  one  sleeps  easily,  because  he 
cannot  study ;  and  the  other  lives  merrily,  because  he  feels 
no  pain  :  the  one  lacking  the  burden  of  lean  and  wasteful 
learning ;  the  other  knowing  no  burden  of  heavy  tedious 
penury :  These  time  ambles  withal.  He  trots  hard  with  a 
young  maid,  between  the  contract  of  her  marriage,  and  the 
day  it  is  solemnized :  if  the  interim  be  but  a  so'nnight, 
time's  pace  is  so  hard,  that  it  seems  the  length  of  seven 
years.  He  gallops  with  a  thief  to  the  gallows :  for  though 
he  goes  as  softly  as  foot  can  fall,  he  thinks  himself  too  soon 
there.  He  stays  still  with  lawyers  in  the  vacation :  for 
they  sleep  between  term  and  term,  and  then  they  perceive 
not  how  time  moves.  .  A.  T.  iii  2. 

She  should  have  died  hereafter ; 

There  would  have  been  a  time  for  such  a  word. — 

To-morrow,  and  to-morrow,  and  to-morrow, 

Creeps  in  this  petty  pace  from  dav  to  day,  Jtlf*  ~v/7T  3.r 

To  the  last  syllable  of  recorded  time  ;  — ^f2^<nyU.+J? 

And  all  our  yesterdays  have  lighted  fools 

way  to  dusty  death.     Out,  out,  brief  candle  1 
Life's  but  a  walking  shadow ;  a  poor  player, 
~hat  struts  and  frets  his  hour  upon  the  stage, 
And  then  is  heard  no  more:  it  is  a  tale 
Tfild  by jinjdioi.  full  of  sound  and  fury 


Time,  that  takes  survey  of  all  the  world, 
Must  have  a  stop.  H.IV.  PT.  i.  v.  4. 

Gallop  apace,  you  fiery-footed  steeds, 
Towards  Phoebus'  mansion  ;  such  a  waggoner 
As  Phaeton  would  whip  you  to  the  west, 
And  bring  in  cloudy  night  immediately.  S.  J.  iii.  2. 

Men  must  endure 

Their  going  hence,  even  as  their  coming  hither : 
Ripeness  is  all.  K '.  L  T.  2. 

The  extreme  parts  of  time  extremely  form 
All  causes  to  the  purpose  of  his  spee " 


TIM       f jfsktiftitict  intiDitart{.        TIM 

F__. 
[ME, — continued. 
And  often,  at  his  very  loose,  decides 
That  which  long  process  could  not  arbitrate.         L.  L.  v.  2 
Time  shall  unfold  what  plaited  cunning  hides.       K.  L.  1. 1. 
Old  Time,  the  clock  setter,  that  bald  sexton,  Time, 
•%          Is  it  as  he  will  ?                                                         K.  J.  iii.  1. 
We  are  Time's  subjects,  and  Time  bids  be  gone. 

H.  IV.  FT.  n;  i.  3. 
Time  is  like  a  fashionable  host, 
That  slightly  shakes  his  parting  guest  by  the  hand  ; 
And  with  his  arms  out-stretch'd,  as  he  would  fly, 
Grasps  in  the  comer :  welcome  ever  smiles, 
And  farewell  goes  out  sighing.  T.  C.  iii.  3. 

Time  is  a  very  bankrupt,  and  owes  more  than  he's  worth 
to  season.  C.  E.  iv.  2. 

The  clock  upbraids  me  with  the  waste  of  time.    T.  N.  iii.  1. 

How  sour  sweet  music  is 
When  time  is  broke,  and  no  proportion  kept ! 
So  is  it  in  the  music  of  our  lives.  A'.  //.  v.  5. 

AND  DECAY. 
The  wrinkles  which  thy  glass  will  truly  show, 

Of  mouthed  graves  will  give  thee  memory, 
Thou  by  thy  dial's  shady  stealth  maiest  know, 

Time's  thievish  progress  to  eternity.  Poemt. 

Not  know  my  voice!     0,  time's  extremity! 
Hast  thou  so  crack'd  and  splitted  my  poor  tongue, 
In  seven  short  years,  that  here  my  only  son 
Knows  not  my  feeble  key  of  untun'd  cares  ? 
Though  now  this  grained  face  of  mine  be  hid 
In  sap-consuming  winter's  drizzled  snow, 
And  all  the  conduits  of  my  blood  froze  up  ; 
Yet  hath  my  night  of  life  Home  memory, 
My  wasting  lamp  some  fading  glimmer  left, 
My  dull  deaf  ears  a  little  use  to  hear.  C.  E.  v.  1. 

I  wasted  time,  and  now  doth  time  waste  me.         R.  II.  T.  5. 
Oh,  grief  hath  chang'd  me  since  you  saw  me  last, 
And  careful  hours,  with  Time's  deformed  hand 
Have  written  strange  defeatures  in  my  face.          C.  E.v.l. 

SERVER. 

Sirrah,  thou  art  said  to  have  a  stubborn  soul, 
That  apprehends  no  farther  than  this  world, 
*»-       And  squar'st  thy  life  according.  M.  M.  v.  1. 

The  devil  a  puritan  is  he,  or  any  thing  constantly,  but  a 
time-pleaser.  T.  N.  ii.  3 

876 


TIM       $lja!U8jimiiitt  iirtinnani.       TOO 

TIME  TRIES  OFFENDERS. 

Well,  Time  is  the  old  justice  that  examines  all  such 
offenders,  and  let  Time  try.  A.  T.  iv.  1. 

TIMIDITY. 

0,  I  could  divide  myself  and  go  to  buffets,  for  moving 
such  a  dish  of  skimm'd  milk  with  so  honourable  an  action  ! 

H.IT.  PT.  i.ii.3. 

Such  a  commodity  of  warm  slaves,  as  had  as  lief  hear  the 
devil  as  a  drum.  H.  IV.  PT.  i.  iv.  2. 

TIMON'S  GRAVE. 

Timon  hath  made  his  everlasting  mansion 

Upon  the  beached  verge  of  the  salt  flood ; 

Which,  once  a  day  with  his  embossed  froth, 

The  turbulent  surge  shall  cover ;  thither  come, 

And  let  my  grave-stone  be  your  oracle.  T.  A.  v.  3. 

TITLES  (See  also  HONOUR). 

That  is  honour's  scorn, 
Which  challenges  itself  as  honour's  born, 
And  is  not  like  the  sire :  Honours  thrive, 
When  rather  from  our  acts  we  them  derive 
Than  our  foregoers.  A.  W.  ii.  3. 

Here's  a  silly  stately  style  indeed ! 
The  Turk,  that  two-and-fifty  kingdoms  hath, 
Writes  not  such  a  tedious  style  as  this : — 
Him,  that  thou  magnifiest  with  all  those  titles, 
Stinking,  and  fly-blown,  lies  here  at  our  feet. 

H.  VI.  PT.  i.  iv.  7. 

TONGUE. 

Many  a  man's  tongue  shakes  out  his  master's  undoing. 

A.W.ii.4,. 

Be  not  thy  tongue  thy  own  shame's  orator.          C.  E.  iii.  2. 
My  tongue,  though  not  my  heart,  shall  have  his  will. 

C.  E.  iv.  2. 

These  fellows  of  infinite  tongue,  that  can  rhyme  them 
selves  into  ladies'  favours,— they  do  always  reason  them 
selves  out  again.  H.  V.  v.  2. 

TOOL  (See  also  PIPING). 

It  is  a  creature  that  I  teach  to  fight, 

To  wind,  to  stop,  to  run  directly  on ; 

His  corporal  motion  govern'd  by  my  spirit. 

And,  in  some  taste,  is  Lepidus  but  so  ; 

He  must  be  taught,  and  train'd,  and  bid  go  forth; 

A  barren-spirited  fellow ;  one  that  feeds 

On  objects,  arts,  and  imitations ; 

377  0> 


TOO        !>lja!u0paniin  DirtiBnartj.       IRA 

TOOL, — continued. 

Which,  out  of  use,  and  stal'd  by  other  men, 

Begin  his  fashion :  Do  not  talk  of  him, 

But  as  a  property.  J.  C.  IT.  1. 

This  is  a  slight  unmeritable  man, 

Meet  to  be  sent  on  errands.  /.  (7.  iv.  1. 

Octavius,  I  have  seen  more  days  than  you ; 

And  though  we  lay  these  honours  on  this  man, 

To  ease  ourselves  of  divers  slanderous  loads, 

He  shall  but  bear  them  as  the  ass  bears  gold : 

To  groan  and  sweat  under  the  business, 

Either  led  or  driven,  as  we  point  the  way  ; 

And  having  brought  our  treasure  where  we  will, 

Then  take  we  down  his  load,  and  turn  him  off, 

Like  to  the  empty  ass,  to  shake  his  ears, 

And  graze  in  commons.  J.C,  iy.  1. 

For  all  the  rest, 

They'll  take  suggestion,  as  a  cat  laps  milk ; 
They'll  tell  the  clock  to  any  business  that 
We  say  befits  the  hour.  T.  ii.  1. 

TOUCH. 

I  will  touch  thee  but  with  reverent  hands.  H.  VI.  FT.  I.  v.  3 

TOWERS. 

Air-braving  towers.  H.  VI.  PT.  i.  iv.  2- 

TRADES. 

There's  boundless  theft  in  limited  professions.      T.  A.  iv.  3. 

TRAGEDIAN. 

For  I  must  talk  of  murders,  ranes,  and  massacres, 
Acts  of  black  night,  abominable  deeds, 
Complots  of  mischief,  treason  ;  villanies 
Ruthful  to  hear,  yet  piteously  perform'd.         Tit.  And.  v.  1. 
Begin,  murderer  ; — leave  thy  damnable  faces,  and  begin. 

H.  in.  2. 

What  scene  of  death  hath  Roscius  now  to  act  ? 

H.  VI.  PT.  HI.  v.  6. 

TRAITOR 

A  kissing  traitor.  L.  L.  v,  2, 

To  say  the  truth,  so  Judas  kiss'd  his  master ; 
And  cried — all  hail !  when  as  he  meant — all  harm. 

H.  VI.  PT.  HI.  T.  7 

I  protest, 

Maxigre  thy  strength,  youth,  place,  and  eminence, 
Despite  thy  victor  sword,  and  fire-new  fortune, 

378 


TRA       Ijjuhsjuariaii  $utiattan[. 

TRAITOR,— continued. 

Thy  valour,  and  thy  heart, — thou  art  a  traitor : 

False  to  thy  gods,  thy  brother,  and  thy  father ; 

Conspirant  'gainst  this  high  illustrious  prince  ; 

And  from  the  extremest  upward  of  thy  head, 

To  the  descent  and  dust  beneath  thy  feet, 

A  most  toad-spotted  traitor.  K.  L.  v.  3. 

Some  of  you,  with  Pilate,  wash  your  hands, 
Showing  an  outward  pity ;  yet  you  Pilates 
Have  here  deliver'd  me  to  my  sour  cross, 
And  water  cannot  wash  away  your  sin.  R.  II.  iv.  1. 

0,  passing  traitor,  perjur'd,  and  unjust.     H.  VI.  FT.  in.  v.  1. 
A  giant  traitor.  H.  VIII.  i.  2. 

Thus  do  all  traitors  : 
If  their  purgation  did  consist  in  words, 
They  are  as  innocent  as  grace  itself.  A.  Y.  i.  3. 

Though  those  that  are  be  tray 'd 
Do  feel  the  treason  sharply,  yet  the  traitor 
Stands  in  worse  case  of  woe.  Cym.  iii.  4. 

But  cruel  are  the  tunes,  when  we  are  traitors, 

And  do  not  know  ourselves  ;  when  we  hold  rumour 

From  what  we  fear,  yet  know  not  what  we  fear ; 

But  float  upon  a  wild  and  violent  sea, 

Each  way.  M.  iv.  2. 

Oh,  let  me  live, 
And  all  the  secrets  of  our  camp  I'll  show.  A.  W.  iv.  1. 

TRANSLATING. 

He  hath  studied  her  well,  and  translated  her  well ;  out 
of  honesty  into  English.  M.  W.  i.  3. 

TRAP. 

Now  is  the  woodcock  near  the  gin.  T.  N.  ii.  5. 

TRAVELLING  (See  also  HOME-BREEDING). 
All  places  that  the  eye  of  heaven  visits, 
Are  to  the  wise  man  ports  and  happy  havens.       B.  II.  i.  3 
Home-keeping  youth  have  ever  homely  wits 
"Wer't  not  affection  chains  thy  tender  days 
To  the  sweet  glances  of  thy  honour'd  love, 
I  rather  would  entreat  thy  company, 
To  see  the  wonders  of  the  world  abroad, 
Than,  living  dully  sluggardis'd  at  home, 
Wear  out  thy  youth  with  shapeless  idleness.  T.  G.  i.  1. 

I  had  rather  have  a  tool  to  make  me  merry,  than  expe- 
rience to  make  me  sad  ;  and  to  travel  for  it  too.  A.  Y.  iv.  \. 

$19 


TRA       Ijjniusjuarian  Sirtinnnrq.       IRB 

TRA  VE  L  LING,— continued. 

A  traveller !  By  my  faith  you  have  great  reason  to  be 
sad :  I  fear,  you  have  sold  your  own  lands,  to  see  other 
men's ;  then,  to  have  seen  much,  and  to  have  nothing,  is  to 
have  rich  eyes  and  poor  hands.  A.  Y.  iv.  1. 

Thou  didst  make  tolerable  vent  of  thy  travel.       A.  W.  ii.  3. 

Travellers  ne'er  did  lie, 
Though  fools  at  home  condemn  them.  T.  iii.  3 . 

Farewell,  monsieur  traveller  ;  Look,  you  lisp,  and  wear 
strange  suits  ;  disable  all  the  benefits  of  your  own  country  ; 
be  out  of  love  with  your  nativity,  and  almost  chide  God  for 
making  you  that  countenance  you  are  ;  or  I  will  scarce  think 
you  have  swam  in  a  gondola.  A.  Y.  iv.  1. 

They  have  all  new  legs,  and  lame  ones  ;  one  would  take  it, 
That  never  saw  them  pace  before,  the  spavin, 
A  spring-halt  reign'd  among  them.  H.  VIII.  i.  3. 

As  far  as  I  see,  all  the  good  our  English 
Have  got  by  the  late  voyage,  is  but  merely 
A  fit  or  two  o'  the  face  ;  but  they  are  shrewd  ones  ; 
For  when  they  hold  them,  you  would  swear  directly 
Their  very  noses  had  been  counsellors 
To  Pepin,  or  Clotharius,  they  keep  state  so.       H.  VIII.  i.  3. 
He  did  request  me  to  importune  you, 
To  let  him  spend  his  time  no  more  at  home, 
Which  would  be  great  impeachment  to  his  age, 
In  having  known  no  travel  in  his  youth.  T.  G.  i.  3. 

Ay,  now  am  I  in  Arden :  the  more  fool  I ;  when  I  was 
at  home,  I  was  in  a  better  place ;  but  travellers  must  be 
content.  A.  Y.  ii.  4. 

Types  of  travel.  H.  VIII.  i.  3. 

IllEACHERY. 

0  monstrous  treachery  I  Can  this  be  so  ; 
That  in  alliance,  amity,  and  oaths, 

There  should  be  found  such  false  dissembling  guile  ? 

H.VL  PT.  i.iv.2. 

As  a  wood-cock  to  my  own  springe,  Osrick, 

1  am  justly  kill'd  with  mine  own  treachery.  H.  v.  2 

TREASON. 

Suspicion  shall  be  all  stuck  full  of  eyes: 
For  treason  is  but  trusted  like  the  fox ; 
Who,  ne'er  so  tame,  so  cherish'd,  and  lock'd  up, 
Will  have  a  wild  trick  of  his  ancestors. 
Look  how  we  can,  or  sad,  or  merrily, 
Interpretation  will  misquote  our  looks  i 

m 


TRE       lijabsprnriiin  iirti0ttnri(.       TRO 

TREASON,—  continued. 

And  we  shall  feed  like  oxen  at  a  stall, 
The  better  cherish'd  p<ill  the  nearer  death. 

H.IV.  PT.  i.v.2. 

Some  treason,  masters  ;  yet  stand  close.  M.  A,  iii.  3. 

TREPIDATION. 

She  does  so  blush,  and  fetches  her  wind  so  short,  as  if  she 
was  frayed  with  a  sprite  :  I'll  fetch  her.  It  is  the  prettiest 
villain  :  —  She  fetches  her  breath  as  short  as  a  new  ta'en 
sparrow.  T.  C.  iii.  2. 

TRIALS. 

Withhold  thine  indignation,  mighty  heaven, 

And  tempt  us  not  to  bear  above  our  power  1          K.  J.  v.  6, 


With  trial-fire  touch  me  his  finger-end  ; 
If  he  be  chaste,  the  flame  will  back  descend, 
And  turn  him  to  no  pain  ;  but  if  he  start, 
It  is  the  flesh  of  a  corrupted  heart.  M.  W.  v.  b 

TRICKS. 

My  master  hath  been  an  honourable  gentleman,  tricks  he 
hath  had  in  him,  as  gentlemen  have.  A.  W.  v.  3 

Well  ;  if  I  be  served  such  another  trick,  I'll  have  my 
brains  ta'en  out,  and  buttered,  and  give  them  to  a  dog  for 
a  new  year's  gift.  M.  W.  hi.  5 

TRIFLING,  ILL-TIMBD. 

All  solemn  things 

Should  answer  solemn  accidents.     The  matter  ? 
Triumphs  for  nothing,  and  lamenting  toys, 
Is  jollity  for  apes,  and  grief  for  boys.  Cym.  iv.2. 

Pr'ythee,  have  done  ; 

And  do  not  play  in  wench-like  words  with  that 
Which  is  so  serious.  Cym.  iv.  2. 

TRINKETS. 

Immoment  toys,  things  of  such  dignity 

As  we  greet  modern  friends  withal.  A.  C.  v.  2. 

TROUBLES. 

0,  how  full  of  briers  is  this  working-day  world  1    A.  Y.  i.  3 
As  flies  to  wanton  boys  are  we  to  the  gods  ; 
They  kill  us  for  their  sport.  K.  L.  iv.  L 

Thou  seest  we  are  not  all  alone  unhappy  ; 
This  wide  and  universal  theatre 
Presents  more  woeful  pageants  than  the  scene 
Wherein  we  play.  A.Y.n.l 

381 


TRIJ       ijjnkrsjinman  Bittinnanj.       TRC 

TRUANT. 

Myself  have  been  an  idle  truant, 
Omitting  the  sweet  benefit  of  time, 
To  clothe  mine  age  with  angel-like  perfection.       T.  0.  ii.  4. 

TRUMPET. 

Trumpet,  blow  loud ; 

Send  thy  brass  voice  through  all  these  lazy  tents.  T.C.  i.3. 
Make  all  our  trumpets  speak ;  give  them  all  breath  ; 
Those  clamorous  harbingers  of  blood  and  death.      M.  v  6 
Go  to  the  rude  ribs  of  that  antient  castle ; 
Through  brazen  trumpet  send  the  breath  of  parle 
Into  his  ruin'd  ears,  and  thus  deliver.  R.  II.  iii.  3. 

Give,  with  thy  trumpet,  a  loud  note  to  Troy, 
Thou  dreadful  Ajax  ;  that  the  apalled  air 
May  pierce  tbe  head  of  the  great  combatant, 
And  hale  him  thither.  T.C.  iv.  5. 

Thou,  trumpet,  there's  my  purse. 
Now  crack  thy  lungs,  and  split  thy  brazen  pipe : 
Blow,  villain,  till  thy  sphered  bias  cheek 
Out-swell  the  cholic  of  puff'd  Aquilon : 
Come,  stretch  thy  chest,  and  let  thy  eyes  spout  blood : 
Thou  blow'st  for  Hector. 

T.  C.  iv.  5 
Trumpeters, 

With  brazen  din,  blast  you  the  city's  ear ; 
Make  mingle  with  our  rattling  tabourines ; 
That  heaven  and  earth  may  strike  their  sounds  together, 
Applauding  our  approach.  A.  C.  iv.  8. 

Sound,  trumpets !     Let  our  bloody  colours  wave ! 
And  either  victory,  or  else  a  grave.  H.VL  PT.  HI.  ii.  2. 

TRUST. 

Antony 

Did  tell  me  of  you,  bade  me  trust  you  ;  but 
I  do  not  greatly  care  to  be  deceiv'd, 
That  have  no  use  for  trusting.  A.  C.  v.  2 

TRUTH. 

Truth  is  truth 

To  the  end  of  reckoning.  M.  M.  T.  1. 

Truth  needs  no  colour, — beauty  no  pencil.  Pocma. 

Alas,  it  is  my  vice,  my  fault : 
While  others  fish  with  craft  for  great  opinion, 
I  with  great  truth  catch  mere  simplicity.  T.C.  iv. 4. 

Tell  truth,  and  shame  the  devil. 
If  »bou  have  power  to  raise  him,  bring  him  hither, 


TRU        fjpfffftimi  fiirtinitflrij.       TYB 

:  RUTH,— continued. 

And  I'll  be  sworn,  I  have  power  to  shame  him  hence. 
0,  while  you  live,  tell  truth,  and  shame  the  devil. 

H.  IV.  PT.  i.  iii.  J. 

Hence,  thou  suborn'd  informer !  a  true  soul, 
When  most  impeacht,  stands  least  in  thy  controul.     Poem*. 
If  circumstances  lead  me,  I  will  find 
Where  truth  is  hid,  though  it  were  hid  indeed 
Within  the  centre.  H.  ii.  2. 

IVythee  speak ; 

Falseness  cannot  come  from  thee,  for  thou  look'st 
Modest  as  justice,  and  thou  seem'st  a  palace 
For  the  crown'd  truth  to  dwell  in :  I'll  believe  thee, 
And  make  my  senses  credit  thy  relation, 
To  points  that  seem  impossible  ;  for  thou  look'st 
Like  one  I  lov'd  indeed.  P.  P.  v.  1. 

I  am  as  true  as  truth's  simplicity, 

And  simpler  than  the  infancy  of  truth.  T.  C.  iii.  2. 

Methinks,  the  truth  should  live  from  age  to  age, 
As  'twere  retail'd  to  all  posterity, 
Even  to  the  general  all-ending  day  R.  III.  iii.  1. 

Never  man 

Sigh'd  truer  breath.  O.  iv.  5. 

Truth  loves  open  dealing.  H.VIU.  iii.  1. 

Would,  half  my  wealth 

Would  buy  this  for  a  lie.  C.  iv.  6. 

What,  can  the  devil  speak  true  M.  i.  3. 

That  truth  should  be  silent,  I  had  almost  forgot.     A.C.  ii.  2 
Truth's  a  dog  that  must  to  kennel :  he  must  be  whipped 
out,  when  Lady  the  brach,  may  stand  by  the  fire  and  stink. 

K.  L.  i.  4. 

—  . Ax  UNWELCOME,  RARELY  TOLD. 

Life-loving  sick  men,  when  their  deaths  are  near, 

No  news  but  health  from  their  physicians  know.        Poema. 

IYBANT. 

Our  country  sinks  beneath  the  yoke ; 
It  weeps,  it  bleeds  ;  and  each  new  day  a  gash 
Is  added  to  her  wounds  M  iv.  3. 

I  grant  him  bloody, 
Luxurious,  avaricious,  false,  deceitful, 
Sudden,  malicious,  smacking  of  every  sin 
That  has  a  name.  M,  IT.  3. 

He  would 

Have  made  them  mules,  silenc'd  their  pleaders,  and 
893 


TYR        Ijjafospmifltt  Sutinnanj.       TYR 

TYRANT, — continued. 

Dispropertied  their  freedoms ;  holding  them, 

In  human  action  and  capacity, 

Of  no  more  soul,  nor  fitness  for  the  world, 

Than  camels  in  their  war ;  who  have  their  provand 

Ouly  for  bearing  burdens,  and  sore  blows 

For  sinking  under  them.  (7.  ii.  1. 

Upon  thy  eye-balls  murd'rous  tyranny 

Sits  in  grim  majesty  to  fright  the  world.     H.  VI.  PT.  n.  iii.  3 

Bleed,  bleed  poor  country  I 
Great  tyranny,  lay  thou  thy  basis  sure, 
For  goodness  dares  not  check  thee  !  wear  thou  thy  wrongs, 
Thy  title  is  affeer'd.  M.  iv.  3. 

For  what  is  he  they  follow  ?  truly,  gentlemen, 

A  bloody  tyrant,  and  a  homicide  ; 

One  rais'd  in  blood,  and  one  in  blood  established ; 

One  that  made  means  to  come  by  what  he  hath, 

And  slaughter'd  those  that  were  the  means  to  help  him ; 

A  base  foul  stone,  made  precious  by  the  foil 

Of  England's  chair,  where  he  is  falsely  set, 

One  that  hath  ever  been  God's  enemy : 

Then,  if  you  fight  against  God's  enemy, 

God  will,  in  justice,  ward  you  as  his  soldiers.     R.  III.  y.  3. 

I'll  not  call  you  tyrant ; 
But  this  most  cruel  usage  of  your  queen 
(Not  able  to  produce  more  accusation 
Than  your  own  weak-hing'd  fancy,)  something  savours 
Of  tyranny,  and  will  ignoble  make  you, 
Yea,  scandalous  to  the  world.  W.  T.  ii 

Till  now  you  have  gone  on,  and  fill'd  the  time 

With  all  licentious  measure,  making  your  wills 

The  scope  of  justice ;  till  now,  myself,  and  such 

As  slept  within  the  shadow  of  your  power, 

Have  wander'd  with  our  travers'd  arms,  and  brnath'd 

Our  sufferance  vainly.  T.  A,  y,  6 

And  why  should  Caesar  be  a  tyrant  then  ? 

Poor  man  I     I  know  he  would  not  be  a  wolf, 

But  that  he  sees  the  Romans  are  but  sheep ; 

He  were  no  lion,  were  not  Romans  hinds. 

Those  that  with  haste  would  make  a  migthy  fire, 

Begin  it  with  weak  straws :  What  trash  is  Rome, 

What  rubbish,  and  what  offal,  when  it  serves, 

For  the  base  matter  to  illuminate 

So  vile  a  thing  as  Caesar  ?  /.  C.  i.  3. 

This  tyrant,  whose  sole  name  blisters  oar  tongues. 

Was  once  thought  honest.  M.  iy.  & 


TYR       lljnbsjirntinn  Dirtinnan|,       VAX 

TYRANT,— -continued. 

His  demand 

Springs  not  from  Edward's  well-meant  honest  love, 
But  from  deceit,  bred  by  necessity; 
For  how  can  tyrants  safely  govern  home, 
Unless  abroad  they  purchase  great  alliance  ? 

H.  VI.  PT.  in.  iii  1 
0  nation  miserable, 

With  an  untitled  tyrant,  bloody  scepter' d, 
When  shalt  thou  see  thy  wholesome  days  again  ?      M.  iy.  3 
Then  live  to  be  the  show  and  gaze  o'  the  time ; 
We'll  have  thee,  as  our  rarer  monsters  are, 
Painted  upon  a  pole  ;  and  under  writ, 
Here  may  you  see  the  tyrant.  M.  v.  7. 

'Tis  time  to  fear,  when  tyrants  seem  to  kiss.          P.  P.  i.  2. 

Tyrants'-  fears 

Decrease  not,  but  grow  faster  with  their  years.      P.  P.  i.  2. 
Those  he  commands,  move  only  in  command, 
Nothing  in  love.  M.  v.  2. 


0.    it 

VACANCY. 

The  city  cast 

Her  people  out  upon  her,  and  Antony, 
Enthroned  in  the  market-place,  did  sit  alone, 
Whistling  to  the  air ;  which,  but  for  vacancy, 
Had  gone  to  gaze  on  Cleopatra  too, 
And  made  a  gap  in  nature.  A.C.  ii.  2 

VALOUR  (See  also  COURAGE). 

lie's  truly  valiant,  that  can  wisely  suffer 

The  worst  that  man  can  breathe  ;  and  make  his  wrongs 

His  outsides ;  wear  them,  like  his  raiment,  carelessly; 

And  ne'er  prefer  his  injuries  to  his  heart, 

To  bring  it  into  danger.  T.  A.  iii.  5 

Here,  there,  and  every  where,  he  leaves  and  takes  ; 

Dexterity  so  obeying  appetite. 

That  what  he  will,  he  does  ,  and  does  so  much, 

That  proof  is  call'd  impossibility.  21(7.  T.  5 

Engaging  and  redeeming  of  himself, 

With  such  a  careless  force,  and  forceless  care, 

As  if  that  luck,  in  very  spite  of  cunning, 

Bade  him  win  all.  T.C.  T.5 

It  is  held, 
That  valour  is  the  chiefest  virtue,  and 


VAL       f 'iftktf.ptniu  Strtiunart(.       VAI 

7ALOUR,— continued. 

Most  dignifies  the  haver :  if  it  be, 

The  man  I  speak  of  cannot  in  the  world 

Be  singly  counterpois'd.  C.  ii.  2, 

His  valour  shown  upon  our  crests  to-day, 

Hath  taught  us  how  to  cherish  such  high  deeds, 

Even  in  the  bosom  of  our  adversaries.         H.  IV.  PT.  i.  v.  5 

0,  this  boy 
Lends  mettle  to  us  all  1  H.  IV.  PT.  i.  v,  * 

Methought  he  bore  him  in  the  thickest  troop, 
As  doth  a  lion  in  a  herd  of  neat : 
Or  as  a  bear  encompass'd  round  with  dogs, 
Who,  having  pinch'd  a  few,  and  made  them  cry, 
The  rest  stand  all  aloof  and  bark  at  him. 

H.  VI.  PT.  in.  ii.  1, 

When  valour  preys  on  reason, 
It  eats  the  sword  it  fights  with.  A.  C.  iii.  11. 

In  a  false  quarrel  their  is  no  true  valour.  M.  A.  v.  1 

I  told  you,  Sir,  they  were  red  hot  with  drinking  ; 

So  full  of  valour,  that  they  smote  the  air 

For  breathing  in  their  faces  ;  beat  the  ground 

For  kissing  of  their  feet.  T.  iv.  1, 

Plague  on't ;  an  I  thought  he  had  been  valiant,  and  so 
cunning  in  fence,  I'd  have  seen  him  damned  ere  I'd  have 
challenged  him.  T.N.  ii.  4. 

What  valour  were  it,  when  a  cur  doth  grin, 
For  one  to  thrust  his  hand  between  his  teeth, 
When  he  might  spurn  him  with  his  foot  away  ? 

H.  VI.  PT.  in.  i.  4. 

The  Douglas,  and  the  Hotspur,  both  together, 

Are  confident  against  the  world  in  arms.    H.IV.  PT.  I.  v.  1 

Disdaining  fortune,  with  his  brandish'd  steel, 

Which  smok'd  with  bloody  execution, 

Like  valour's  minion 

Carv'd  out  his  passage,  till  he  fac'd  the  slave.  M.  i  L 

The  better  part  of  valour  is  discretion ;  in  the  which 
better  part  I  have  saved  my  life.  H.  IV.  PT.  i.  v.  4. 

Why,  thou  knowest  I'm  as  valiant  as  Hercules :  but  be- 
ware instinct;  the  lion  will  not  touch  the  true  prince.  Instinct 
is  a  great  matter ;  I  was  a  coward  on  instinct.  I  shall  think 
the  better  of  myself  and  thee  during  my  life ;  I,  for  a 
lion,  and  thou,  for  a  true  prince  ff.  IV.  PT.  i  ii,  4 


VAL       ftjiikjiytittti  Sntiflnartj.       VEN 


VALUATION 

Their  fortunes  both  are  weigh'd  : 
In  your  lord's  scale  is  nothing  but  himself, 
And  some  few  vanities  that  make  him  light.       R.  II.  iii.  4 

VALUE. 

What  is  augh*,  but  as  'tis  valued  ?  T.O.  ii.  2. 

But  value  dwells  not  in  particular  will  ; 

It  holds  his  estimate  and  dignity 

As  well  wherein  'tis  precious  of  itself 

AB  in  the  prizer  :  .'tis  mad  idolatry, 

To  make  the  service  greater  than  the  god  ; 

And  the  will  dotes,  that  is  attributive 

To  what  infectiously  itself  affects, 

Without  some  image  of  the  affected  merit  T.C.  ii.  i 

VANITY. 

We  are  such  stuff 

As  dreams  are  made  of,  and  our  little  life 
Is  rounded  with  a  sleep.  T.  iv.  1, 

To  worship  shadows  and  adore  false  shapes.         21  O.  iv.  2, 
Light  vanity,  insatiate  cormorant, 
Consuming  means,  soon  preys  upon  itself.  R.  II.  ii.  1 

By  the  strength  of  their  illusion 

Shall  draw  him  on  to  his  confusion.  M.  iii.  5. 

Shine  out,  fair  sun,  till  I  have  bought  a  glass, 
That  I  may  see  my  shadow  as  I  pass.  R.  HI.  i.  2. 

VENERATION. 

There  is  an  old  poor  man, 
Who  after  me  hath  many  a  weary  step 
Limp'd  in  pure  love;  till  he  be  first  suffic'd, 
Oppress'd  with  two  great  evils,  age  and  hunger, 
I  will  not  touch  a  bit.  A.T.  ii.  7. 

Let  but  the  commons  hear  this  testament, 
(Which,  pardon  me,  I  do  not  mean  to  read,) 
And  they  would  go  and  kiss  dead  Caesar's  wounds, 
And  dip  their  napkins  in  his  sacred  blood 
Yea,  beg  a  hair  of  him  for  memory, 
And,  dying,  mention  it  within  th3ir  wills, 
Bequeathing  it,  as  a  rich  legacy, 
Unto  their  issue.  /.  C.  iu.  2. 

VENETIAN  WOMBN. 

I  know  our  country  disposition  well  ; 
In  Venice  they  do  let  heaven  see  the  pranks 
They  dare  not  show  their  husbands  ;  their  best  conscience 
Is  —  not  to  leave  undone,  but  keep  unknown.  O.  iii.  3 

M 


llmbejitarinn  lirtinnari}.        nc 


VENGEANCE. 

Are  there  no  stones  in  heaven 
But  what  serve  for  the  thunder?  O  v.2, 

Arise,  black  vengeance,  from  thy  hollow  cell  1 

Yield  up,  0  love,  thy  crown  and  hearted  throne, 

To  tyrannous  hate  1  swell,  bosom,  with  thy  fraught, 

For  'tis  of  aspics'  tongues!  O.  in.  3 

VERACITY. 

If  Jupiter 

Should  from  yond'  cloud  speak  divino  things 
And  say,  'tis  true,  I'd  not  believe  them  more 
Than  thee,  all  noble  Marcius.  C.  iv.  5 

VERBOSITY  (See  also  WORDS). 

He  draweth  out  the  thread  of  his  verbosity  finer  than  the 
staple  of  his  agrument.  L,L.  v.  1. 

Words,  words,  mere  words,  no  matter  from  the  heart. 

T.C.  v.  3. 

Gratiano  speaks  an  infinite  deal  of  nothing,  more  than 
any  man  in  all  Venice  :  His  reasons  are  as  two  grains  of 
wheat  hid  in  two  bushels  of  chaff;  you  shall  seek  all  day 
ere  you  find  them,  and  when  you  have  found  them,  they  are 
not  worth  the  search.  M.  V.  i.  1. 

VERILY. 

Verily  ! 

You  put  me  off  with  limber  vows  :  But  I, 

Though  you  would  seek  to  unsphere  the  stars  with  oaths, 

Should  yet  say,  Sir,  no  going.     Verily, 

You  shall  not  go  ;  a  lady's  verily  is 

As  potent  as  a  lord's.  W.T.  i.  2. 

VETERAN. 

He  did  look  far 

Into  the  service  of  the  time,  and  was 
Discipled  of  the  bravest  ;  he  lasted  long  ; 
But  on  us  both  did  haggish  age  steal  on, 
And  wore  us  out  of  act.  A.  W.  i.  2. 

VICE,  PREVALENT. 

All  sects,  all  ages,  smack  of  this  vice.  M.  M.  ii.  2 

Yes,  in  good  sooth,  the  vic«  is  of  a  great  kindred  ;  it  U 

well  allied.  M  M.  To.  2 

VICISSITUDE. 

Yet  better  thus,  and  known  to  be  contemn'd, 
Than  still  contemn'd  and  flatter'd.     To  be  worst, 

888 


nc       |jjnkB0pnrian  iidiBuanj.       VIR 

VICISSITUDE,— continued.  ^ 

The  lowest,  and  most  dejected  thing  of  fortune, 

Stands  still  in  esperance,  lives  not  in  fear : 

The  lamentable  change  is  from  the  best ; 

The  worst  returns  to  laughter.     Welcome  then, 

Thou  unsubstantial  air,  that  I  embrace ! 

The  wretch,  that  thou  hast  blown  unto  the  worst, 

Owes  nothing  to  thy  blasts.  K.  L.  ir.  1. 

World,  world,  0  world ! 

But  that  thy  strange  mutations  make  us  hate  thee, 
Life  would  not  yield  to  age.  K.  L.  iv.  1. 

VICTORY. 

To  whom  God  will,  there  be  the  victory. 

H.  VI.  PT.  m.  ii.  5 

A  victory  is  twice  itself,  when  the  achiever  brings  home 
full  numbers.  M,  A.  i.  1. 

Thus  far  our  fortune  keeps  an  upward  course, 
And  we  are  grac'd  with  wreaths  of  victory. 

H.  VI.  PT.  III.T.S. 

0,  such  a  day, 

So  fought,  so  followed,  and  so  fairly  won, 
Come  not,  till  now,  to  dignify  the  times, 
Since  Caesar's  fortunes.  H.  IV.  FT.  n.  i.  1. 

JMinc  enemies  are  all  knit  up 
In  their  distractions.  T.  iii.  3. 

VILLAIN  (See  also  KNAVE,  ROGUE). 

Slave,  soulless  villain,  dog ! 

0  rarely  base  !  A.C.  v.2. 

When  rich  villains  have  need  of  poor  ones,  poor  ones 
may  make  what  price  they  will.  M.  A.  iii.  3. 

He  hath  out-villained  villany  so  far,  that  the  rarity  re- 
deems him.  A.  W.  iv.  3. 

1  like  not  fair  terms,  and  a  villain's  mind.  M.  V.  i.  3. 

In  this,  though  I  cannot  be  said  to  be  a  flattering  honest 
man,  it  must  not  be  denied  that  I  am  a  plain-dealing  villain. 

M.A.I.Z. 

VIRAGO. 

I  would  not  marry  her,  though  she  were  endowed  with 
all  that  Adam  had  left  him  before  he  transgressed :  she 
would  have  made  Hercules  have  turned  spit ;  yea,  and  have 
cleft  his  club  to  make  the  fire  too.  *  *  I  would  to  God 

289  83* 


VIR        Ijjftfttsm&rtttn  iirtinnnrt[.        VIT 

VIRAGO,— continued. 

some  scholar  would  conjure  her  ;  for,  certainly,  while  she  is 
here,  a  man  may  live  as  quiet  in  hell,  as  in  a  sanctuary. 

M.  A.  11. 1. 

TIRGINITY. 

Bless  our  poor  virginity  from  underminers  and  blowers 
up.  Is  there  no  military  policy,  how  virgins  might  blow  up 
men  ?  A.  W.  i.  I. 

VIRTUE. 

Virtue  is  bold,  and  goodness  never  fearful.          M.  M.  iii.  1. 

But  virtue,  as  it  never  will  be  mov'd, 

Though  lewdness  court  it  in  a  shape  of  heaven  ; 

So  lust,  though  to  a  radiant  angel  link'd, 

Will  sate  itself  in  a  celestial  bed, 

And  prey  on  garbage.  H.  i.  5. 

Never  could  the  strumpet, 
With  all  her  double  vigour,  art,  and  nature, 
Once  stir  my  temper ;  but  this  virtuous  maid 
Subdues  me  quite :  Ever,  till  now, 
When  men  were  fond,  I  smil'd,  and  wonder'd  how. 

M.M.\\.2. 

Assume  a  virtue,  if  you  have  it  not. 

That  monster,  custom,  who  all  sense  doth  eat 

Of  habit's  devil,  is  angel  yet  in  this  ; 

That  to  the  use  of  actions  fair  and  good 

He  likewise  gives  a  frock,  or  livery, 

That  aptly  is  put  on.  H.  iii.  4. 

Virtue  is  of  so  little  regard  in  these  costermonger  time*, 
that  true  valour  is  turned  bear-herd.  H.  IV.  PT.  n.  i.  2. 

AND  ABILITY. 

I  held  it  ever, 

Virtue  and  cunning  were  endowments  greater 
Than  nobleness  and  riches :  careless  heirs 
May  the  two  latter  darken  and  expend ; 
But  immortality  attends  the  former, 
Making  a  man  a  god.  P.  P.  iii.  2. 

REWARDED. 

Virtue  preserved  from  fell  destruction's  blast, 
Led  on  by  heaven,  and  crown'd  with  joy  at  last. 

P.  P.  y.  Ep. 

riTDPERATION  (See  also  ABUSE). 

What  man  of  good  temper  could  endure  this  tempest  of 
exclamation  ?  H.  IV.  PT.  n.  ii.  1. 

The  bitter  clamour  of  two  eager  tongues.  R.  If.  L I 

m 


Ijjflbspannn  lirtinitanL       UNS 

UNANIMITY. 

I  would  we  were  all  of  one  mind,  and  one  mind,  good  : 
0,  there  were  desolation  of  jailers  and  gallowses.  Gym.  v.  4. 

UNDERLINGS. 

Shallow. — Use  his  men  well,  Davy ;  for  they  are  am.nt 
knaves,  and  will  backbite. 

Davy. — No  worse  than  they  are  back-bitten,  Sir ;  for 
they  have  marvellous  foul  linen.  H.IV.  PT.  n.  v.  1. 

UNFITNESS. 

There  is  but  one  puritan  amonst  them,  and  he  siriga 
psalms  to  hornpipes.  W,T.  iv.  2. 

On  old  Hyems'  chin,  and  icy  crown, 
An  od'rous  chaplet  of  sweet  summer  buds 
Is,  as  in  mockery,  set.  M.  N.  ii.  2. 

UNFORTUNATE. 

Thou,  whom  the  heaven's  plagues, 
Have  humbled  to  all  strokes.  K.  L.  iv.  1. 

UNION.    UNITY 

So  we  grew  together, 
Like  to  a  double  cherry,  seeming  parted, 
But  yet  a  union  in  partition  ; 
Two  lovely  berries  moulded  on  one  stem : 
So,  with  two  seeming  bodies,  but  one  heart ; 
Two  of  the  first,  like  coats  in  heraldry, 
Due  but  to  one,  and  crowned  with  one  crest.         M.N.  iii.  2. 
The  amity  that  wisdom  knits  not.  folly  may  easily  untie. 

T.C.  ii.3. 

Then  you  love  us,  we  you,  and  we'll  clasp  hands : 
When  peers  thus  knit,  a  kingdom  ever  stands.      F.  P.  ii.  4. 
He,  that  parts  us,  shall  bring  a  brand  from  heaven, 
And  fire  us  hence,  like  foxes.  K.  L.  v.  3 

UNKINDNESS. 

Is  there  any  cause  in  nature  that  makes  these  hard  hearto  f 

K.  L.  iii.  6. 

UNMASKING. 

Your  leavy  screens  throw  down, 
And  show  like  those  you  are.  M.  v.  6 

UNSOUNDNESS. 

Something  is  rotten  in  the  state  of  Denmark.  H.  i.  4. 

Gilded  tombs  do  worms  infold.  M.  V.  ii.  7. 

Nay,  not  as  one  would  say,  healthy ;   but  so  sound,  as 

things  that  are  hollow,  M.M.  i.  2. 


UNV       IjjdkBBpBnrifln  iirttnttanj.       vow 

UNVEILED. 

To  the  greedy  touch 
Of  common-kissing  Titan.  Cym.  iii.  4 

UNWORTHINESS. 

You  are  not  worth  the  dust  which  the  rude  wind 

Blows  in  your  face.  K.  L.  .?.  2 

Thou  wert  dignified  enough, 
Even  to  the  point  of  envy,  if  'twere  made 
Comparative  for  your  virtues  to  be  styl'd 
The  under  hangman  of  his  kingdom,  and  hated 
For  being  preferred  so  well.  Cym.  ii.  3. 

VOCATION. 

Why,  Hal,  'tis  my  vocation,  Hal ;  'tis  no  sin  for  a  mar 
to  labour  in  his  vocation.  H.  IV.  PT.  i.  i.  2 

VOICE. 

The  shepherd  knows  not  thunder  from  a  tabor, 

More  than  I  know  the  sound  of  Marcius'  tongue, 

From  every  meaner  man's.  C.  5.6. 

— ^—  MELODIOUS. 

Who  starves  the  ears  she  feeds,  and  makes  them  hungry, 
The  more  she  gives  them  speech.  P.  P.  v.  1. 

VOWS  (See  also  LOVERS'  Vows,  OATHS). 

Riotous  madness, 

To  be  entangled  with  those  mouth-made  vows 
Which  break  themselves  in  swearing.  A.C.  i.  3. 

The  gods  are  deaf  to  hot  and  peevish  vows 
They  are  polluted  offerings,  more  abhor'd 
Than  spotted  livers  in  the  sacrifice.  t.C.  v.  3. 

Men's  vows  are  women's  traitors !  All  good  seeming, 

By  thy  revolt,  0  husband,  shall  be  thought 

Put  on  for  villany  ;  not  born,  wher't  grows  ; 

But  worn,  a  bait  for  ladies.  Cym.  iii.  4. 

It  is  the  purpose  that  makes  strong  the  vow  ; 

But  vows  to  every  purpose  must  not  hold.  T  C.  v.  3. 

Unheedful  vows  may  heedfully  be  broken.  T.  G.  ii.  6 

— — —  CONNUBIAL,  FALSIFIED  (See  also  INCONTINENCE). 

Such  an  act,. 

That  blurs  the  grace  and  blush  of  modesty ; 
Calls  virtue,  hypocrite  ;  takes  off  the  rose 
From  the  fair  forehead  of  an  innocent  love, 
And  sets  a  blister  there;  makes  marriage  vows 
As  false  as  dicers'  oaths.  H.  iii.  4 

999 


UPS        ^jjnkrsjitarinn  Dirtinnarij.        UTI 

UPSTART. 

A  man,  they  say,  that  from  very  nothing,  beyond  the 
imagination  of  his  neighbours,  is  grown  into  ai  unspeaka- 
ble estate.  W.  T.  iv.  1. 

URGENCY. 

The  affair  cries, — haste, 
And  speed  must  answer  it.  0.  i.  3. 

The  time  will  not  allow  the  compliment, 

Which  very  manners  urges.  K.  L.  v.  3. 

A  horse !  a  horse  1  my  kingdom  for  a  horse  I       R.  III.  v.  4. 

Her  business  looks  in  her 
With  an  importing  visage.  A.  W.  v.  3. 

USURY. 

That  use  is  not  forbidden  usury, 

Which  happies  those  that  pay  the  willing  loan.          Poems. 

Banish  usury,  that  makes  the  senate  ugly.  T.  A.  iii.  5. 

USURERS. 

Poor  rogues,  and  usurers'  men !  bawds  between  gold  and 
want  1  T.  A.  ii.  2. 

USURPER. 

A  sceptre  snatch'd  with  an  unruly  hand, 

Must  be  as  boisterously  maintain' d  as  gain'd: 

And  he  that  stands  upon  a  slippery  place, 

Makes  nice  of  no  vile  hold  to  stay  him  up.  K.  J.  iii.  4. 

In  the  name  of  God, 

How  comes  it  then,  that  thou  art  call'd  a  king, 
When  living  blood  doth  in  these  temples  beat, 
Which  owe  the  crown  that  thou  o'ermasterest  ?  K.  J.  ii.  1. 

Those  he  commands,  move  only  in  command, 

Nothing  in  love :  now  does  he  feel  the  title 

Hang  loose  about  him,  like  a  giant's  robe 

Upon  a  dwarfish  thief.  If.  v.  2, 

A  vice  of  kings ; 

A  cutrpurse  of  the  empire  and  the  rule ; 
That  from  a  shelf  the  precious  diadem  stole 
And  put  it  in  his  pocket.  H.  iii.  4 

No  hand  of  blood  and  bone 
Can  gripe  the  sacred  handle  of  our  sceptre, 
Unless  he  do  profane,  steal,  or  usurp.  /?.  //.  iii.  3 

UTILITY  AND  DIGNITY. 

A  stirring  dwarf  we  do  allowance  give 

Before  a  sleeping  giant.  T. (7.  ii.  J. 


WAG       ft)ifcttftffU*  Dirti0nan|.      WAS 


to. 

WAGEE. 

Though't  be  a  sportful  combat, 

Yet  in  the  trial  much  opinion  dwells.  T.  O.  i.  3. 

Nothing  can  seem  foul  to  those  that  win.     H.IV.  FT.  i.  v.  1. 

WAGGERY. 

A  waggish  courage ; 

Ready  in  gibes,  quick-answerM,  saucy,  and 
As  quarrelous  as  a  weasel.  Cym.  iii.  4 

WANDERER. 

He  that  commends  me  to  mine  own  coutent, 

Commends  me  to  the  thing  I  cannot  get 

I  to  the  world  am  like  a  drop  of  water, 

That  in  the  ocean  seeks  another  drop  ; 

Who,  fall-ing  there  to  find  his  fellow  forth, 

Unseen,  inquisitive,  confounds  himself.  C.  E.  i.  2, 

WANT. 

Where  nothing  wants,  that  want  itself  doth  seek. 

L.L.  iv.  3. 

WANTON. 

Your  worship's  a  wanton.  M.  W.  ii.  2, 

WANTONNESS. 

The  spirit  of  wantonness  is,  sure,  scared  out  of  him  ;  if 
the  devil  have  him  not  in  fee  simple,  with  fine  and  reco- 
very, he  will  never,  I  think,  in  the  way  of  waste,  attempt 
us  again.  M.  W~.  iv.  2. 

WAR  (See  also  BATTLE). 

The  storm  is  up,  and  all  is  on  the  hazard.  J.  0.  v.  1. 

Slaves  for  pillage  fighting, 
Obdurate  vassals,  fell  exploits  effecting, 
In  bloody  deaths  and  ravishments  delighting ; 

Nor  children's  tears,  nor  mothers'  groans  respecting. 

Poems. 

Put  armour  on  thine  ears,  and  on  thine  eyes  ; 
Whose  proof,  nor  yells  of  mothers,  maidsj  nor  babes, 
Nor  sight  of  priests  in  holy  vestments  bleeding, 
Shall  pierce  a  jot  T.  A.  IT.  3, 

The  grappling  vigour,  and  rough  frown  of  war.    K.  J.  iii.  I, 
The  imminent  death  of  twenty  thousand  men, 
That,  for  a  fantasy,  and  trick  of  fame, 
Go  to  their  graves  like  beds  ;  fight  for  a  plot} 
894 


WAR       iJuibBjuuriait  iirtinttanj.       WAB 

WAR,-  -continued. 

Whereon  the  numbers  cannot  try  the  cause ; 

Which  is  not  tomb  enough,  and  continent, 

To  hide  the  slain.  H.  iv.  4 

Giving  our  holy  virgins  to  the  stain 

Of  contumelious,  beastly,  mad-brain'd  war.  T  A.  r.  2 

Let  it  not  disgrace  me, 
If  I  demand,  before  this  royal  view, 
What  rub,  or  what  impediment,  there  is, 
Why  that  the  naked,  poor,  and  mangled  peace, 
Dear  nurse  of  arts,  plenties,  and  joyful  births, 
Should  not,  in  this  best  garden  of  the  world, 
Our  fertile  France,  put  up  her  lovely  visage  ? 
Alas !  she  hath  from  France  too  long  been  chas'd  • 
And  all  her  husbandry  doth  lie  on  heaps, 
Corrupting  in  its  own  fertility. 
Her  vine,  the  merry  cheerer  of  the  heart, 
Dnpruned,  dies  :  her  hedges  even-pleach'd,  — 
Like  prisoners  wildly  overgrown  with  hair, 
Put  forth  disorder'd  twigs :  her  fallow  leas 
The  darnel,  hemlock,  and  rank  fumitory, 
Doth  root  upon  ;  while  that  the  coulter  rusts, 
That  should  deracinate  such  savagery: 
The  even  mead,  that  erst  brought  sweetly  forth 
The  freckled  cowslip,  burnet,  and  green  clover, 
Wanting  the  scythe,  all  unconnected,  rank, 
Conceives  by  idleness  ;  and  nothing  teems, 
But  hateful  docks,  rough  thistles,  kecksies,  burs, 
Losing  both  beauty  and  utility. 
And  as  our  vineyards,  fallows,  meads,  and  hedges, 
Defective  in  their  natures,  grow  to  wildness ; 
Even  so  our  houses,  and  ourselves,  and  children, 
Have  lost,  or  do  not  learn,  for  want  of  time, 
The  sciences  that  should  become  our  country ; 
But  grow,  like  savages, — as  soldiers  will, 
That  nothing  do  but  meditate  on  blood, — 
To  swearing,  and  stern  looks,  diffus'd  attire, 
And  every  thing  that  seems  unnatural.  H.  V.  T.  £ 

Now,  for  the  bare-pick'd  bone  of  majesty, 

Doth  dogged  war  bristle  his  angry  crest, 

And  snarTeth  in  the  gentle  eyes  of  peace : 

Now  powers  from  home,  and  discontents  at  home, 

Meet  in  one  line  ;  and  vast  confusion  waits 

(As  doth  a  raven  on  a  sick-fall'n  beast) 

The  imminent  decay  of  wrested  pomp. 

Now  happy  he,  whose  cloak  and  cincture  can 

Hold  out  this  tempest.  K.  J.  IT.  3 


W  AR,-  'continued. 

Lean  famine,  quartering  steel,  and  climbing  fire. 

H.  VI.  FT.  i.  iv,  Jl 

Now  all  the  youth  of  Eugland  are  on  fire, 

And  silken  dalliance  in  the  wardrobe  lies ; 

Now  thrive  the  armourers,  and  honour's  thought 

Reigns  solely  in  the  breast  of  every  man : 

They  sell  the  pasture  now  to  buy  the  horse ; 

Following  the  mirror  of  all  Christian  kings, 

With  winged  heels,  as  English  Mercuries.     H.  V.  ii.  chora*. 

Accursed  and  unquiet  wrangling  days  1 

How  many  of  you  have  mine  eyes  beheld ! 

My  husband  lost  his  life  to  get  the  crown ; 

And  often  up  and  down  my  sons  were  toss'd, 

For  me  to  joy,  and  weep,  their  gain  and  loss ; 

And,  being  seated,  and  domestic  broils 

Clean  overblown,  themselves,  the  conquerors 

Make  war  upon  themselves  ;  brother  to  brother, 

Blood  to  blood,  self  'gainst  self.     0  preposterous 

And  frantic  outrage !  end  thy  damned  spleen  ; 

Or  let  me  die,  to  look  on  death  no  more !  R.  III.  ii.  4. 

Two  thousand  souls,  and  twenty  thousand  ducats, 

Will  not  debate  the  question  of  this  straw : 

This  is  the  imposthume  of  much  wealth  arid  peace  ; 

That  inward  breaks,  and  shows  no  cause  without, 

Why  the  man  dies.  H.  iv.  4. 

The  toil  of  the  war, 

A  pain  that  only  seems  to  seek  out  danger 
P  the  name  of  fame,  and  honour ;  which  dies  i'  the  search. 

Gym.  iii.  3. 

Hence,  therefore,  thou  nice  crutch ; 
A  scaly  gauntlet  now,  with  joints  of  steel, 
Must  glove  this  hand :  And  hence,  thou  sickly  quoif ; 
Thou  art  a  guard  too  wanton  for  the  head, 
Which  princes,  flesh'd  with  conquest,  aim  to  hit. 

H.  IV.  FT.  ii.  i.  1 

The  gates  of  mercy  shall  be  all  shut  up ; 

And  the  flesh'd  soldier, — rough  and  hard  of  heart, — 

In  liberty  of  bloody  hand,  shall  range 

With  conscience  wide  as  hell ;  mowing  like  grass 

Your  fresh  fair  virgins  and  your  flow'ring  infants. 

H.  V.  iii.  3. 

This  churlish  knot  of  all-abhorred  war.       H.  IV.  PT.  L  f.  I 

0  war,  thou  son  of  hell, 

Whom  angry  heavens  do  make  their  minister, 
Throw  in  the  frozen  bosoms  of  our  parts 
Hi 


lljfllusjimiati  Dirthniinj.      WAB 


\V  A  R,  —  continued. 

Hot  coals  of  vengeance  !     Let  no  soldier  fly  : 

He  that  is  truly  dedicate  to  war, 

Hath  no  self-love  :  nor  he,  that  loves  himself, 

Hath  not  essentially,  but  by  circumstance, 

The  name  of  valour.  H.  VI.  FT.  n.  v  2, 

In  a  moment,  look  to  see 
The  blind  and  bloody  soldier,  with  foul  hand, 
Defile  the  locks  of  your  shrill-shrieking  daughters  ; 
Your  fathers  taken  by  the  silver  beards, 
And  their  most  reverend  heads  dash'd  to  the  walla  ; 
Your  naked  infants  spitted  upon  pikes  ; 
Whiles  the  mad  mothers  with  their  howls  confus'd 
Do  break  the  clouds.  H.  V.  iii.  3. 

The  nimble  gunner 
With  linstock  now  the  devilish  cannon  touches. 

H.V.  m.chonu. 
See  a  siege  : 

Behold  the  ordnance  on  their  carriages, 
With  fatal  mouths  gaping  on  girded  Harfleur. 

H.  V.  iii.  chorus. 
Follow  thy  drum  ; 

With  man's  blood  paint  the  ground,  gules,  gules  : 
Religious  canons,  civil  laws,  are  cruel; 
Then  what  should  war  be  ?  T.  A.  iv.  3. 

Mortal  staring  war.  R.  UL  T.  3. 

God  forgive  the  sins  of  all  those  souls, 
That  to  their  everlasting  residence, 
Before  the  dew  of  evening  fall,  shall  fleet, 
In  dreadful  trial  of  our  kingdom's  king.  K.  J.  ii.  L 

Why  have  they  darM  to  march 
So  many  miles  upon  her  peaceful  bosom  ; 
Frighting  her  pale-fac'd  villages  with  war, 
And  ostentation  of  despightful  arms  ?  R.  II.  ii.  3. 

He  is  their  god  ;  he  leads  them  like  a  thing, 

Made  by  some  other  deity  than  nature, 

That  shapes  man  better  ;  and  they  follow  him, 

Against  us  brats,  with  no  less  confidence, 

Than  boys  pursuing  summer  butterflies, 

Or  butchers  killing  flies.  C.  \v.  6 

Sword  hold  thy  temper  ;  heart,  be  wrathful  still  : 
Priests  pray  for  enemies,  but  princes  kill.  H.  VI.  PT.  ii.  v.  '2 

Alas,  poor  country  I 

Almost  afraid  to  know  itself!  It  cannot 
Be  call'd  our  mother,  but  our  grave  :  where  nothing, 
807  <H 


tjrrftfijtjfltitttt  ItrtiniiEnt.      WIB 


WAR,  —  continued. 

But  who  knows  nothing,  is  once  seen  to  smile  ; 

Where  sighs,  and  groans,  and  shrieks  that  rend  the  air, 

Are  made,  not  mark'd  ;  where  violent  sorrow  seems 

A  modern  ecstacy  ;  the  dead  man's  knell, 

Is  there  scarce  ask'd,  for  who  ;  and  good  men's  lives 

Expire  before  the  flowers  in  their  caps, 

Dying,  or  ere  they  sicken.  M.  iy,  3 

Therefore,  my  Harry, 
Be  it  thy  course  to  busy  giddy  minds 
With  foreign  quarrels  ;  that  action,  hence  borne  out, 
May  waste  the  memory  of  the  former  days. 

H.  IV.  FT.  ii.  iv.  4 

Examples,  gross  as  earth,  exhort  me 
Witness,  this  army  of  such  mass,  and  charge, 
Led  by  a  delicate  and  tender  prince  ; 
Whose  spirit,  by  divine  ambition  puffd, 
Makes  mouths  at  the  invisible  event  ; 
Exposing  what  is  mortal,  and  unsure, 
To  all  that  fortune,  death,  and  danger,  dare, 
Even  for  an  egg-shell.  H.  iv.  4 

England  hath  long  been  mad,  and  scarr'd  herself  ; 

The  brother  blindly  shed  the  brother's  blood, 

The  father  rashly  slaughtcr'd  his  own  son, 

The  son,  compell'd,  been  butcher  to  the  sire.       R.  ZDT  v.  4, 

He  is  come  to  ope 

The  purple  testament  of  bleeding  war  ; 
But  ere  the  crown  he  looks  for  live  in  peace, 
Ten  thousand  bloody  crowns  of  mothers'  sons 
Shall  ill-become  the  flower  of  England's  face  ; 
Change  the  complexion  of  her  maid-pale  face, 
To  scarlet  indignation,  and  bedew 
Her  pastures'  grass  with  faithful  English  blood. 

R.  U.  Hi.  3 

Ah,  gracious  lord,  these  days  are  dangerous  ! 

Virtue  is  chok'd  with  foul  ambition, 

And  charity  chas'd  hence  by  rancour's  hand  : 

Foul  subornation  is  predominant, 

And  equity  exil'd  your  highness'  land.     H.  VI.  PT.  n.  iii.  i 

Shall  we  go  throw  away  our  coats  of  steel, 
And  wrap  our  bodies  in  black  mourning  gowns, 
Numb'ring  our  Ave-Maries  with  our  beads  ? 
Or  shall  we,  on  the  helmets  of  our  foes, 
Tell  our  devotion  with  revengeful  arms  ! 

AFZn.ni  U.  \ 


WAR      Ijiabspariati  iittinnnri|.       WAB 

VAR,— -continued. 

I'll  use  the  advantage  of  my  power, 
And  lay  the  summer's  dust  with  showers  of  blood, 
Rain'd  from  the  wounds  of  slaughtered  Englishmen. 

R.IL  iii.3. 

Let  confusion  of  one  part,  confirm 
The  other's  peace  ;  till  then,  blows,  blood,  and  death. 

K.J.  ii.2 
At  this  time, 

We  sweat  and  bleed  :  the  friend  hath  lost  his  friend ; 
And  the  best  quarrels,  in  the  heat,  are  curs'd 
By  those  that  feel  their  sharpness.  K.  L.  v.  3, 

Your 'own  ladies,  and  pale-visaed  maids, 
Like  Amazons,  come  tripping  after  drums  ; 
Their  thimbles  into  armed  guantlets  change, 
Their  neelds  to  lances,  and  their  gentle  hearts 
To  fierce  and  bloody  inclination.  K.  J.  v.  2, 

It  is  war's  prize  to  take  all  vantages, 
And  ten  to  one  is  no  impeach  of  valour.    H.  VI.  FT.  in.  i.  4. 

Thou  know'st,  great  son, 

The  end  of  war's  uncertain.  C.  v.  3. 

0,  now  doth  death  line  his  dead  chaps  with  steel ; 
The  swords  of  soldiers  are  his  teeth,  his  fangs  ; 
And  now  he  feasts,  mouthing  the  flesh  of  men, 
In  undetermin'd  differences  of  kings.  K.  J.  ii.  2- 

Let  them  come ; 

They  come  like  sacrifices  in  their  trim, 
And  to  the  fire-ey'd  maid  of  smoking  war, 
All  hot  and  bleeding,  will  we  offer  them  : 
The  mailed  Mars  shall  on  his  altar  sit, 
Up  to  the  ears  in  blood.  H.  IV.  PT.  i.  iv.  1. 

Come,  let  us  make  a  muster  speedily  : 
Doomsday  is  near ;  die  all,  die  merrily.     H.  IV.  PT.  i.  iv.  1. 

It  may  well  serve 

A  nursery  to  our  gentry,  who  are  sick 
For  breathing  and  exploit.  A.  W.  i.  2. 

The  gallant  monarch  is  in  aims  ; 
And  like  an  eagle  o'er  his  aiery  towers, 
To  souse  annoyance  that  comes  near  his  nest.       K.  J.  T.  2. 
Away,  you  trifler !    Love  ?  I  love  thee  not, 
I  care  not  for  thee,  Kate  ;  this  is  no  world, 
To  play  with  mammets,  and  to  tilt  with  lips : 
We  must  have  bloody  noses,  and  crack'd  crowns, 
And  pass  them  current  too : — Gods  me,  my  horse  ! 

H.  IV.  PT.  i.  ii  3 


jjnltrspartnn  Dirtiniinrij. 


W  AR,  —  continued. 

I  do  believe, 

Statist  though  I  am  none,  nor  like  to  be, 
That  this  will  prove  a  war.  Cym  ii.  4, 

Let  me  have  war,  say  I  ;  it  exceeds  peace,  as  far  as  daj 
does  night  ;  it's  spritely,  waking,  audible,  and  full  of  vent. 

C.  iv.  5. 
They  shall  have  wars,  and  pay  for  their  presumption. 

H.  VI.  PT.  in.  iv.  1. 

How  now,  lad?  is  the  wind  in  that  door,  i'  faith?  must 
we  all  march  ?  H.IV.  PT.  i.  iii.  3 

0  virtuous  fight, 
When  right  with  right  wars,  who  shall  be  most  right. 

T.  C.iii.2 
-  PROGNOSTICS  OF. 

The  bay-trees  in  our  country  all  are  wither'd, 

And  meteors  fright  the  fixed  stars  of  heaven  ; 

The  pale-fac'd  moon  looks  bloody  on  the  earth, 

And  lean-look'  d  prophets  whisper  fearful  change  ; 

Rich  men  look  sad,  and  ruffians  dance  and  leap, 

The  one,  in  fear  to  lose  what  they  enjoy. 

The  other,  to  enjoy  by  rage  and  war.  R,  II.  ii.  4. 

WASTE. 

To  paint  the  lily  is  wasteful.  K.  J.  iv.2. 

WATCHMAN. 

Why,  you  speak  like  an  antient  and  most  quiet  watchman  ; 
for  I  cannot  see  how  sleeping  should  oflend.        M.  A.  iii.  3. 

WEAKNESS. 

This  milky  gentleness,  and  course  of  yonra, 

Though  I  condemn  it  not,  yet,  under  pardon, 

You  are  much  more  attask'J  for  want  of  wisdom, 

Than  prais'd  for  harmful  mildness.  K.  L.  i.  4. 

I  am  weaker  than  a  woman's  tear, 
Tamer  than  sleep,  fonder  than  ignorance  ; 
Less  valiant  than  the  virgin  in  the  night, 
And  skilless  as  unpractis'd  infancy.  T.C.  i.  i. 

WEALTH. 

How  i'  the  name  of  thrift  doth  he  rake  this  together? 

5.  Vin.  iii.  2, 

--   THE   ASSUMED   AND   ASSIGNED   PRIVILEGES   OF. 

Faults  that  are  rich,  are  fair.  T.A.  i.  2, 

WEEPING  (See  also  GRIEF,  LAMENTATION,  SORROW,  TEARS) 
Qive  me  no  help  in  lamentation, 
I  am  not  barren  to  bring  forth  laments  : 

400 


J-jjnhsprnrinu  Sittinnnrt(. 


WIEPINC,—  continued. 

All  springs  reduce  their  currents  to  mine  eyes, 

That  I,  being  governed  by  the  wat'ry  moon, 

May  send  forth  plenteous  tears  to  drown  the  world  ! 

R.  III.  ii.  2, 
To  weep  is  to  make  less  the  depth  of  grief. 

H.  VI.  FT.  in.  ii.  1 

And  the  remainder  mourning  over  them, 
Brim  full  of  sorrow,  and  dismay  ;  but  chiefly, 
Him  you  term'd,  Sir,  the  good  old  lord  Gonzalo  ; 
His  tears  run  down  -his  beard,  like  winter's  drops 
From  eaves  of  reeds.  T.  v,  1. 

No,  I'll  not  weep  :— 

I  have  full  cause  of  weeping  ;  but  this  heart 
Shall  break  into  a  hundred  thousand  flaws, 
Or  ere  I'll  weep.  K.  L.  ii.  4. 

I  canjiot  weep  :  for  all  my  body's  moisture 
Scarce  serves  to  quench  my  furnace-burning  heart. 

H.  VI.  ft.  in.  ii.  1. 
'Twill  be  this  hour  ere  I  have  done  weeping.          T.G.  ii.  3. 

WELCOME. 

A  hundred  thousand  welcomes  :  I  could  weep, 

And  I  could  laugh  ;  I  am  light,  and  heavy  :  welcome  : 

A  curse  begin  at  very  root  of  his  heart, 

That  is  not  glad  to  see  thee  !  C.  iL  1. 

Ah,  Juliet,  if  the  measure  of  thy  joy 

Be  heap'd  like  mine,  and  that  thy  skill  be  more 

To  blazon  it,  then  sweeten  with  thy  breath 

This  neighbour  air,  and  let  rich  music's  tongue 

Unfold  the  imagin'd  happiness  that  both 

Receive  in  either  by  this  dear  encounter.  R.  J.  ii.  6. 

Sir,  you  are  very  welcome  to  our  house  ; 

It  must  appear  m  other  ways  than  words, 

Therefore  I  scant  this  breathing  courtesy.  M.  V.  v.  1. 

I  reckon  this  always,  —  that  a  man  is  never  undone  till 
he  be  hanged  ;  nor  never  welcome  to  a  place  till  some  cer- 
tain shot  be  paid,  and  the  hostess  say,  welcome.  T.  G.  ii.  5. 

If  thou  wantest  any  thing,  and  wilt  not  call,  beshrew  thj 
heart.  H.  IV.  FT.  ii.  v.  3. 

WELL  DOING. 

Things  done  well, 
And  with  a  care,  exempt  themselves  from  fear. 

H.VIH.i.2. 
-  THE  DUTY  OF.  D 

We  are  born  to  do  benefit*.  T.  A.  i.  5 

401  84* 


*EL       ijjnhsjunriini  lirtintiintj. 


WELL  DOING,  THE  DUTV  OF,  —  continued. 

Heaven  doth  with  us,  as  we  with  torches  do  ; 

Not  light  thorn  for  themselves  :  for  if  our  virtues 

Did  not  go  forth  of  us.  'twere  all  alike 

As  if  we  had  them  not.     Spirits  are  not  finely  touch'dv 

But  to  fine  issues  :  nor  nature  never  lends 

The  smallest  scruple  of  her  excellence, 

But,  like  a  thrifty  goddess,  she  determines 

Herself  the  glory  of  a  creditor, 

Both  thanks  and  use.  if.  M.  i.  1 

WELSH. 

But  I  will  never  be  a  truant,  love, 

Till  I  have  learn'd  thy  language  ;  for  thy  tongue 

Makes  Welsh  as  sweet  as  ditties  highly  penn'd, 

Sung  by  a  fair  queen,  in  a  summer's  bower, 

With  ravishing  division  to  her  lute.  H.  IV.  PT.  i.  iii.  1, 

Now  I  perceive  the  devil  understands  Welsh  ; 

And  'tis  no  marvel  he's  so  humorous.        H.  IV.  FT.  I.  iii.  1 

WHISPERERS. 

Cannot  a  plain  man  live,  and  think  no  harm, 

But  thus  his  simple  truth  must  be  abus'd 

By  silken,  sly,  insinuating  Jacks  ?  R.  HI.  i.  3. 

WHITE. 

Whiter  than  new  snow  on  a  raven's  back.  R.  J.  iii.  2, 

I  take  thy  hand  ;  this  hand, 
As  soft  as  doves-down,  and  as  white  as  it  ; 
Or  Ethiopian's  tooth,  or  the  fann'd  snow, 
That's  bolted  by  the  northern  blasts  twice  o'er.   W.  T.  iv.&, 

-  AND  RED. 

If  she  be  made  of  white  and  red, 

Her  faults  will  ne'er  be  known, 
For  blushing  cheeks  by  faults  are  bred, 

And  fears  by  pale-white  showa 
Then,  if  she  fear,  or  be  to  blame, 

By  this  you  shall  not  know  ; 
For  still  her  cheeks  possess  the  same, 

Which  native  she  doth  owe. 


WJFE  (See  also  ESPOUSAL). 

My  noble  lather, 

I  do  perceive  here  a  divided  duty : 
To  you  I  am  bound  for  life  and  education  ; 
My  life  and  education  both  do  learn  me 
How  to  respect  you  ;  you  are  the  lord  of  duty  ; 
I  am  hitherto  your  daughter  :     But  here's  my  husband  ; 
And  so  much  duty  as  my  mother  show'd 
402 


Dirtiniurti.       wn 


WIFE,  —  continued. 

7io  you,  preferring  you  before  her  father, 

So  inucb  I  challenge  that  I  may  profess 

Due  to  the  Moor,  my  lord.  O.  i.  $. 

Within  the  bond  of  marriage,  tell  me,  Brutus, 

Is  it  excepted,  I  should  know  no  secrets 

That  appertain  to  you  ?     Am  I  yourself 

But,  as  it  were,  on  sort,  or  limitation  ; 

To  keep  with  you  at  meals,  comfort  your  bed, 

And  talk  to  you  sometimes  ?     Dwell  I  but  in  the  suburb* 

Of  your  good  pleasure  ?     If  it  be  no  more, 

Portia  is  Brutus'  harlot,  not  his  wife.  /.  C.  ii.  1. 

Such  duty  as  the  subject  owes  the  prince, 

Even  such  a  woman  owetb  to  her  husband  : 

And,  when  she's  froward,  peevish,  sullen,  sour, 

And  not  obedient  to  his  honest  will, 

What  is  she  but  a  foul  contending  rebel, 

And  graceless  traitor  to  her  loving  lord  ?  T.  S.  v.  2. 

Thy  husband  is  thy  lord,  thy  life,  thy  keeper, 

Thy  head,  thy  sovereign  ;  one  that  cares  for  thee 

And  for  thy  maintenance  :  commits  his  body 

To  painful  labi  .r,  both  by  sea  and  land  ; 

To  watch  the  night  in  storms,  the  day  in  cold, 

While  thou  liesc  warm  at  home,  secure  and  safe  ; 

And  craves  no  otli<?r  tribute  at  thy  hands, 

But  love,  fair  looks,  and  true  obedience.  T.  S.  v.  2. 

I  will  be  master  of  what  is  mine  own  : 

She  is  my  goods,  my  chattels  ;  she  is  my  house, 

My  household-stuff,  my  field,  my  barn, 

My  horse,  my  ox,  my  ass,  my  anything  ; 

And  here  she  stands,  touch  her  whoever  dare  ; 

I  will  bring  mine  action  on  the  proudest  he 

That  stops  my  way  in  Padua.  T.  S.  iii.  2. 

Go  thy  ways,  Kate  : 

That  man  i'  the  world,  who  shall  report  he  has 
A  better  wife,  let  him  in  nought  be  trusted, 
For  speaking  false  in  that  :     Thou  art,  alone, 
(If  thy  rare  qualities,  sweet  gentleness, 
Thy  meekness  saint-like,  wife-like  government,— 
Obeying  in  commanding,  —  and  thy  parts 
Sovereign  and  pious  else,  could  speak  thee  out,) 
The  queen  of  earthly  queens.  .        M.  VIH,  ii.  4, 

You  are  my  true  and  honourable  wife  ; 
As  dear  to  me,  as  arc  the  ruddy  drops, 
That  visit  my  aad  heart.  J.C.ii.l 


WIF       £|ttkfspnriflji  Dirtinuun;.       WIT 

WIFE,— continued. 

0,  ye  gods, 
lender  me  worthy  of  this  noble  wife  !  /.  C.  ii.  k 

1  grant  I  am  a  woman ;  but,  withal, 

A  woman  that  lord  Brutus  took  to  wife  : 

I  grant  I  am  a  woman  ;  but,  withal, 

A  woman  well  reputed ;  Cato's  daughter. 

Think  you,  I  am  no  stronger  than  my  sey. 

Being  so  father'd  and  so  husbanded  ?  J.  C.  ii   $ 

She  is  mine  own  ; 

And  I  as  rich  in  having  such  a  jewel, 
As  twenty  seas,  if  all  their  sand  were  pearl, 
The  water  nectar,  and  the  rocks  pure  gold.  T.  G.  ii.  4. 

Should  all  despair, 

That  have  revolted  wives,  the  tenth  of  mankind 
Would  hang  themselves.     Physic  for't  there  is  none : 
It  is  a  bawdy  planet,  that  will  strike 
Where  'tis  predominant.  W.  T.  i.  2 

As  for  my  wife. 

1  would  you  had  her  spirit  in  such  anotuer  • 
The  third  'o  the  world  is  yours :  which,  with  a  snaffle, 
You  may  pace  easy,  but  not  such  °  wife.  A.  C.  ii  i- 

But  the  full  sum  of  uie 

Is  sum  of  something ;  which,  to  term  in  gross, 
Is  an  unlesson'd  girl,  unschool'd,  unpractis'd  : 
Happy  in  this,  she  is  not  yet  so  old 
But  she  may  learn  ;  happier  than  this, 
She  is  not  bred  so  dull  but  sho  can  learn ; 
Happiest  of  all,  is,  that  her  gentle  spirit 
Commits  itself  to  yours,  to  be  directed, 
As  from  her  lord,  her  governor,  her  king.  M.  V.  iii.  2 

I  am  asham'd,  that  women  are  so  simple 

To  offer  war  where  they  should  sue  for  peace ; 

Or  seek  for  rule,  supremacy,  and  sway, 

When  they  are  bound  to  serve,  love,  and  obey.       T.  S.  v.  S 

Fye,  fye,  unknit  that  threat'ning  unkind  brow ; 
And  dart  not  scornful  glances  from  those  eyes, 
To  wound  thy  lord,  thy  king,  thy  governor ; 
It  blots  thy  beauty,  as  frosts  bite  the  meads ; 
Confounds  thy  fame,  as  whirlwinds  shake  fair  buds ; 
And  in  no  sense  is  meet  or  amiable.  T.  S.  v.  2 

Would  it  not  grieve  a  woman  to  be  over-mastered  by  a 
piece  of  valiant  dust?  to  make  an  account  of  her  15 fs  to  a 
qlod  of  wayward  marie  ?  M.  A.  ii  V. 

IN 


Ijjaluapeiuiatt  lutiauaq. 


WIFE,  SLIGHTED. 

Alas,  poor  lady  ! 

'Tie  a  hard  bondage,  to  become  the  wife 
Of  a  detesting  lord.  A.  W.  iii.  ft 

I  do  think,  it  is  their  husbands'  faults, 
If  wives  do  fall  ;  Say,  that  they  slack  their  duties 
And  pour  our  treasures  into  foreign  laps  ; 
Or  else  break  out  in  peevisb/jealousies, 
Throwing  restraint  upon  us  ;  or,  say,  they  strike  us, 
Or  scant  our  former  having  in  despight  : 
Why,  we  have  galls  ;  and,  though  we  have  some  grace, 
Yet  have  we  some  revenge.     Let  husbands  know, 
Their  wives  have  sense  like  them  :  they  see,  and  smell, 
And  have  their  palates  both  for  sweet  and  sour, 
As  husbands  have.     What  is  it  that  they  do, 
When  they  change  us  for  others  ?     Is  it  sport  ? 
I  think  it  is  :  And  doth  affection  breed  it  ? 
I  think  it  doth  ;  Is't  frailty,  that  thus  errs  ? 
It  is  so  too  :     And  have  not  we  affections  ? 
Desires  for  sport  ?  and  frailty,  as  men  have  ? 
Then,  let  them  use  us  well  ;  else,  let  them  know, 
The  ills  we  do,  their  ills  instruct  us  to.  0.  iv.  3. 

WILFULNESS. 

0,  Sir,  to  wilful  men, 
The  injuries  that  they  themselves  procure 
Must  be  their  schoolmasters.  K.  L.  ii.  4. 

WILL. 

For  death  remembered,  should  be  like  a  mirror, 

Who  tell  us,  life's  but  breath  ;  to  trust  it,  error. 

I'll  make  my  will  then  ;  and,  as  sick  men  do, 

Who  know  the  world,  see  heaven,  but  feeling  woe, 

Gripe  not  at  earthly  joys,  as  erst  they  did.  P.  P.i.  1. 

Thou  mak'st  a  testament 
As  worldlings  do,  giving  thy  sum  of  more 
To  that  which  had  too  much.  A.  T.  ii.  1. 

Fetch  the  will  hither,  and  we  shall  determine 

How  to  cut  off  some  charge  in  legacies.  J.C.  it.  1. 

Ay,  who  doubts  that?  a  will!  a  wicked  will; 

A  woman's  will  ;  a  canker'd  grandam's  will.          K.  J.  ii.  1. 

My  will  ?  Od's  heartlings,  that's  a  pretty  jest,  indeed  ! 
I  ne'er  made  my  will  yet,  I  thank  heaven  ;  I  am  aot  such 
a  sickly  creature,  I  give  heaven  praise.  M.  W.  iii.  4. 

WIND. 

Ill  blows  the  wind  that  profits  nobody.     H.  TL  FT.  in.  ii,  § 


WIN      f^ifctjytimt  Dirtiniiart|.       WIT 


WINE  (See  also  DRUNKARD). 

Drunk!  and  speak  parrot?  and  squabble?  and  swagger! 
and  gpeak  fustian  with  one's  own  shadow?  0,  thou  invisi- 
ble spirit  of  wine,  if  thou  hast  no  name  to  be  known  by, 
let  us  call  thee  —  devil  I  0.  ii.  3. 

Come,  come  ;  good  wine  is  a  good  familiar  creature,  if  it 
be.well  used  ;  exclaim  no  more  against  it.  0.  ii.  3. 

WINNING. 

Winning  would  put  any  man  into  courage.  Cym.  ii.  3. 

^  INTER. 

When  icicles  hang  by  the  wall, 

And  Dick  the  shepherd  blows  his  nail, 
And  Tom  bears  logs  into  the  hall, 
And  milk  comes  frozen  home  in  pail  ; 

When  blood  is  nipt,  and  ways  be  foul, 
Then  nightly  sings  the  staring  owl 
Tu-whit  1  to-who  1  a  merry  note, 
While  greasy  Joan  doth  keel  the  pot. 

When  all  aloud  the  wind  doth  blow, 

And  coughing  drowns  the  parson's  saw, 
And  birds  sit  brooding  in  the  snow, 
And  Marian's  nose  looks  red  and  raw; 
When  roasted  crabs  hiss  in  the  bowl, 
Then  nightly,  &c.  L.  L.\.  2. 

WISDOM. 

Ay,  marry  ;  now  unmuzzle  your  wisdom.  A.  Y.  }.  2. 

To  wisdom  he's  a  fool  that  will  not  yield.  P.  P.  ii.  4. 

WISHERS. 

Wishers  were  ever  fools.  A.C.  iv.  13. 

WIT. 

We  will  spare  for  no  wit,  I  warrant  you.         M.  A.  iii.  5. 

He  uses  his  folly  like  a  stalking  horse,  and  undar  the  pre- 

sentation of  that,  he  shoots  his  wit.  A.T.  v.  4. 

Odd  quirks  and  remnants  of  wit.  M.  A.  ii.  3. 

Since  the  little  wit  that  fools  have,  was  silenced,  the  little 
foolery  that  wise  men  have,  makes  a  great  show.  A.  Y-  i.  $ 

But  a  merrier  man, 
Within  the  limit  of  becoming  mirth, 
I  never  spent  an  hour's  talk  withal  : 
Pis  eye  begets  occasion  for  his  wit 


WIT       Ijjnlusjnflriau  Dirtinuarti.       WIT 

W  IT, — continued. 

For  every  object  that  the  one  doth  catch, 

The  other  turns  to  a  mirth-moving  jest ; 

Which  his  fair  tongue  (conceit's  expositor) 

Delivers  in  such  apt  and  gracious  words, 

That  aged  ears  play  truant  at  his  tales, 

And  younger  hearings  are  quite  ravished, 

So  sweet  and  voluble  is  his  discourse.  L.  L.  ii.  I. 

A  fellow  of  infinite  jest,  of  most  excellent  fancy.      H.  v.  1. 

Muster  your  wits :  stand  on  your  defence ; 

Or  hide  your  heads  like  cowards,  and  fly  hence.     L.  L.  v.  2. 

Those  wits  that  think  they  have  thee,  do  very  oft  prova 
fools  ;  and  I,  that  am  sure  I  lack  thee,  may  pass  for  a  wise 
man :  for  what  says  Quinapalus  ?  Better  a  witty  fool,  than 
a  foolish  wit.  T.  N.  i.  5. 

I  am  not  only  witty  in  myself,  but  the  cause  that  wit  is 
in  other  men.  H.IV.  FT.  n.  i.  2. 

It  is  no  matter,  if  I  do  halt ;  I  have  the  wars  for  my  colour, 
and  my  pension  shall  seem  the  more  reasonable  :  A  good 
wit  will  make  use  of  any  thing ;  I  will  turn  diseases  to  com- 
modity. H.  IV.  PT.  n.  i.  2. 

By  my  troth,  we  that  have  good  wits,  have  much  to 
answer  for ;  we  shall  be  flouting ;  we  cannot  hold.  A.  Y.  v.  1. 

Sir,  your  wit  ambles  well ;  it  goes  easily.  M.  A .  v.  1 . 

Dart  thy  skill  at  me  ; 

Bruise  me  with  scorn,  confound  me  with  a  flout ; 
Thrust  thy  sharp  wit  quite  through  my  ignorance  ; 
Cut  me  to  pieces  with  thy  keen  conceit.  L.  L.  v.  2. 

You  should  then  have  accosted  her ;  and  with  some  excel- 
lent jest,  fire-new  from  the  mint,  you  should  have  banged 
the  youth  into  dumbness.  T.  N.  iii.  2. 

Have  you  not  set  mine  honour  at  the  stake, 

And  baited  it  with  all  the  unmuzzled  thoughts 

That  tyrannous  heart  can  think  ?  T.  N.  iii.  1 

Lo,  lo,  lo,  lo,  what  modicums  of  wit  he  utters  1      T.  C.  ii.  1 

0,  she  would  laugh  me 
Out  of  myself,  press  me  to  death  with  wit.          M.  A.  iii.  1 

He  wants  wii  that  wants  resolved  will.  T.G.  ii.  6. 

He  doth,  indeed,  show  some  sparks  that  are  like  wit. 


WIT        f  jrtktifttmi  Dutinuanj.       WIT 

WIT, — continued. 

Good  wits  will  be  jangling ;  but,  gentles,  agree.    L.  L.  ii.  1, 

None  are  so  surely  caught  when  they  are  catch' d, 

As  wit  turn'd  fool :  folly,  in  wisdom  hatch' d, 

Hath  wisdom's  warrant,  and  the  help  of  school ; 

A.nd  wit's  own  grace  to  grace  a  learned  fool.         L.  L.  v.  2» 

Folly  in  fools  bears  not  so  strong  a  note, 

As  foolery  in  the  wise  when  wit  doth  dote  ; 

Since  all  the  power  thereof  it  doth  apply, 

To  prove,  by  wit,  worth  in  simplicity.  L.  L.  v.  1. 

Are  these  the  breed  of  wits  so  wondered  at  ?         L.  L.  v.  2. 

Thou  hast  pared  thy  wit  o'  both  sides,  and  left  nothing  in 
the  middle.  K.  L.  i.  4. 

His  wit  is  as  thick  as  Tewkesbury  mustard. 

H.  IF.  PT.II.  ii.4. 

Hector  shall  have  a  great  catch,  if  he  knock  out  either 
of  your  brains ;  'a  were  as  good  crack  a  fusty  nut  with  no 
kernel.  T.C.  ii.  1. 

Are  his  wits  safe  ?  is  he  not  light  of  brain  ?  0.  iv.  1. 

See  now,  how  wit  may  be  made  a  Jack-a-lent,  when  tig 
upon  ill  employment.  Jf.  W.  *.  5. 

Well,  better  wits  have  worn  plain  statute  caps.     L.  L.  v.  2 

When  a  man's  verses  cannot  be  understood,  nor  a  man's 
good  wit  seconded  by  the  forward  child,  understanding,  it 
strikes  a  man  more  dead  than  a  great  reckoning  in  a  little 
room.  A.Y.  iii.  3 

God  help  me !  how  long  have  you  profess'd  apprehension  ? 

M.  A.  iii.  4. 

He'll  but  break  a  comparison  or  two  on  me  ;  which,  per- 
adventure,  not  marked,  or  not  laughed  at,  strikes  him  into 
melancholy  ;  and  then  there's  a  partridge's  wing  saved,  for 
the  fool  will  eat  no  supper  that  night.  M.  A.  ii.  1. 

-—  AN  UNCONSCIOUS. 

Nay,  I  shall  ne'er  be  'ware  of  mine  own  wit,  till  I  break 
my  shins  against  it.  A.  T.  ii.  4 

WIT,  REFLECTIONS  ON  THE  SCULL  OF  A. 

Where  be  your  gibes  now  ?  your  gambols  ?  your  songs  / 
your  flashes  of  merriment,  that  were  wont  to  set  the  table 
m  a  roar  ?  Not  one  now  to  mock  your  own  grinning  ?  (juit« 

IN 


?jjakf0pmiait  IDirtinntrif.       wrr 

WIT,  REFLECTIONS  ON  THE  SCULL  OF  A, — continued. 

chap-fallen  1  Now  get  you  to  ray  lady's  chamber,  and  tell 
her,  let  her  paint  an  inch  thick,  to  this  favour  she  must 
come  ;  make  her  laugh  at  that.  H.  v.  1. 

— - ,  WOMEN'S. 

Make  the  doors  upon  a  woman's  wit,  and  it  will  out  at 
the  casement ;  shut  that,  and  'twill  out  at  the  key-hole : 
stop  that,  'twill  fly  with  the  smoke  out  at  the  chimney. 

A.  T.  iv.  1. 

Upon  her  wit  doth  earthly  honour  wait, 
And  virtue  stoops  and  trembles  at  her  frown. 

Tit.  And.  ii.  1. 

TITLING. 

This  fellow  pecks  up  wit,  as  pigeons,  pease  ; 

And  utters  it  again  when  God  doth  please: 

lie  is  wit's  pedlar;  and  retails  his  wares 

At  wakes,  and  wassails,  meetings,  markets,  fairs; 

And  we  that  sell  by  the  gross,  the.  Lord  doth  kno^, 

Have  not  the  grace  to  grace  it  with  such  show.      L.  L.  v.  2. 

WITCHES. 

What  are  these, 

So  wither'd,  and  so  wild  in  their  attire, 
That  look  not  like  -the  inhabitants  o'  the  earth, 
And  yet  are  on't?  Live  you?  or  are  you  aught 
That  man  may  question  ?     You  seem  to  understand  me, 
By  each  at  once  her  choppy  finger  laying 
Upon  her  skinny  lips  : — You  should  be  women, 
And  yet  your  beards  forbid  me  to  interpret 
That  you  are  so.  M.  i.  3, 

I  c6njure  you,  by  that  which  you  profess, 

(Howe'er  you  come  to  know  it,)  answer  me  : 

Though  you  untie  the  winds,  and  let  them  fight 

Against  the  churches  ;  though  the  yesty  waves 

Confound  and  swallow  navigation  up  ; 

Though  bladcd  corn  be  lodg'd,  and  trees  blown  down ; 

Though  castles  topple  on  their  warder's  heads ; 

Though  palaces,  and  pyramids,  do  slope 

Their  heads  to  their  foundations ;  though  the  treasure 

Of  nature's  germins  tumble  altogether, 

Ev*n  till  destruction  sicken, — answer  me 

To  what  I  ask.  M.  iv.  1. 

WITHDRAWING. 

So  to  your  pleasures ; 
am  for  other  than  for  dancing  measures.  A.  Y.  T.  4 

409  M 


WOE       lijafuspmiau  iutianarij.       woi 
WOE. 

0,  what  a  sympathy  of  woe  is  this ! 

As  far  from  help  as  limbo  is  from  bliss  I         Tit.  And.  in  1. 

WOLSEY,  CARDINAL. 

You  are  meek  and  humble  mouth'd ; 
You  sign  your  place,  and  calling,  in  full  seeming, 
With  meekness  and  humility:  but  your  heart 
Is  cramn'd  with  arrogancy,  spleen,  and  pride. 
You  have,  by  fortune,  and  his  highness'  favours, 
Gone  slightly  o'er  low  steps ;  and  now  are  mounted, 
Where  powers  are  your  retainers  ;  and  your  words 
(Domestics  to  you)  serve  your  will   as't  please 
Yourself  pronounce  their  office.     I  must  tell  you, 
You  tender  more  your  person's  honour,  than 
Your  high  profession  spiritual.  H.  FZT/.  ii.  4, 

He  was  a  man 

Of  an  unbounded  stomach,  ever  ranking 
Himself  with  princes  :  one,  that  by  suggestion 
Tied  all  the  kingdom :  simony  was  fair  play  ; 
His  own  opinion  was  his  law :  I'  the  presence 
He  would  say  untruths  ;  and  be  ever  double, 
Both  in  his  words  and  meaning :     He  was  never 
(But  where  ho  meant  to  ruin)  pitful: 
His  promises  were,  as  he  then  was,  mighty  ; 
But  his  performance,  as  he  is  now,  nothing. 
Of  his  own  body  he  was  ill,  and  gave 
The  clergy  ill  example.  H.  VIII  it.  2 

This  cardinal, 

Though  from  an  humble  stock,  undoubtedly 
Was  fashion'd  to  much  honour.     From  his  cradle 
lie  was  a  scholar,  and  a  ripe,  and  good  one ; 
Exceeding  wise,  fair  spoken,  and  persuading  : 
Lofty,  and  sour,  to  them  that  lov'd  him  not; 
But,  to  those  men  that  sought  him,  sweet  as  summer 
And  though  he  were  unsatisfied  in  getting, 
(Which  was  a  sin,)  yet,  in  bestowing,  Madam, 
He  was  most  princely.     Ever  witness  for  him 
Those  twins  of  learning,  that  1  a  rais'd  in  you, 
Ipswich,  and  Oxford :  one  of  \  hich  fell  with  him, 
Unwilling  to  outlive  the  good  that  did  it. 
The  other,  though  unfinished,  yet  so  famous, 
So  excellent  in  art,  and  still  so  rising, 
That  Christendom  shall  ever  speak  his  virtua 
His  overthrow  heap'd  happiness  upon  him ; 
For  then,  and  not  till  then,  he  felt  himself, 
And  found  the  blessedness  of  being  little 


WOL       iijobsjiBfinatt  Sutinnan;.      WOM 

WO  LSE  Y,— continued. 

And,  to  add  greater  honours  to  his  age 

Than  man  could  give  him,  he  died, 

Fearing  God.  H.  VUL  IT.  & 

tfOMAN. 

Ah  me  I  how  weak  a  thing 
The  heart  of  woman  is !  J.  C.  ii.  4. 

When  maidens  sue 

Men  give  like  gods  ;  but  when  they  weep  and  kneel, 
All  their  petitions  are  as  freely  theirs 
As  they  themselves  would  have  them.  M.  M.  i.  5. 

We  cannot  fight  for  love,  as  men  may  do ; 

Wo  should  be  woo'd,  and  were  not  made  to  woo. 

M.  N.  ii.  2. 

Women  are  not 

In  their  best  fortunes,  strong ;  but  want  will  perjure 
The  ne'er  touch' d  vestal.  A.  C.  iii.  10. 

These  women  are  shrewd  tempters  with  their  tongues. 

H.  VL  FT.  i.  i.  2. 

0  most  delicate  fiend  I 
Whe  is't  can  read  a  woman  ?  Cym.  v.  5. 

She's  beautiful ;  and  therefore  to  be  woo'd  : 

She  is  a  woman  ;  therefore  to  be  won.         H.  VL  PT.  i.  v.  3. 

Come  on,  come  on :  You  are  pictures  out  of  doors, 
Bells  in  your  parlours,  wild  cats  in  your  kitchens, 
Saints  in  your  injuries,  devils  being  offended, 
Players  in  your  housewifery,  and  housewives  in  your  beds. 

O.  ii.  1. 

A  woman  mov'd,  is  like  a  fountain  troubled, 

Muddy,  ill-seeming,  thick,  bereft  of  beauty ; 

And,  while  it  is  so,  none  so  dry  or  thirsty, 

Will  deign  to  dip  or  touch  one  drop  of  it.  T.  S.  v.  2. 

Can  my  sides  hold,  to  think,  that  man, — who  knows 

By  history,  report,  or  his  own  proof, 

What  woman  is,  yea,  what  she  cannot  choose 

But  must  be,— will  his  free  hours  languish  for 

Assured  bondage  ?  Cym.  i.  * 

The  bountiful  blind  woman  [Fortune]  doth  most  mista* 

in  her  gifts  to  women.     For  those  that  she  makes  fair,  sha 

scarce  makes  honest ;  and  those  that  she  makes  toonest,  she 

makes  very  ill-fa vouredly.  A.  Y.  i.  2, 

411 


WOM      ft^ak*fji*fltis3  Sirthnnni*      WOK 

WOMAN, — continued. 

Ah  !  poor  our  sex !  this  fault  in  us  I  find, 

The  error  of  our  eye  directs  our  mind.  T.  C.  T.  2 

That  we  can  call  these  delicate  creatures  ours, 

And  not  their  appetites  !  Q.  li.  3 


GENERAL  INVECTIVE  AGAINST. 


Is  there  no  way  for  men  to  be,  but  women 

Must  be  half -workers  ?     We  are  bastards  all : 

Arid  that  most  venerable  man,  which  I 

Did  call  my  father,  was  I  know  not  where 

When  I  was  stampt;  some  coiner  with  his  tools 

Made  me  a  counterfeit:  yet  my  mother  seem'd 

The  Dian  of  that  time  :  so  doth  my  wife 

The  nonpareil  of  this.     0  vengeance  I  vengeance  ! 

Me  of  my  lawful  pleasure  she  restrain'd, 

And  pray'd  me,  oft,  forbearance  ;  did  it  with 

A  pudency  so  rosy,  the  sweet  view  on't 

Might  well  have  warm'd  old  Saturn  ;  that  I  thought  her 

As  chaste  as  unsunn'd  snow :  0,  all  the  devils  ! 

Could  I  find  out 

The  woman's  part  in  me  1     For  there's  no  motion 
That  tends  to  vice  in  man,  but  I  affirm 
It  is  the  woman's  part :  Be  it  lying,  note  it, 
The  woman's  ;  flattering,  hers  ;  deceiving,  hers ; 
Lust  and  rank  thoughts,  hers,  hers ;  revenges,  hers  ; 
Ambitions,  covetings,  change  of  prides,  disdain, 
Nice  longings,  slanders,  mutability : 
All  faults  that  may  be  nam'd,  nay,  that  hell  knows, 
Why,  hers,  in  part,  or  all ;  but,  rather,  all : — 
For  even  to  vice 

They  are  not  constant,  but  are  changing  still 
One  vice,  but  of  a  minute  old,  for  one 
Not  half  so  old  as  that.     I'll  write  against  them, 
Detest  them,  curse  them  : — Yet  'tis  greater  skill, 
In  a  true  hate,  to  pray  they  have  their  will : 
The  very  devils  cannot  plague  them  better.  Gym.  ii.  5 

WONDER. 

Masters,  I  am  to  discourse  wonders.  M.  .AT.  iv.  2 

They  spake  not  a  word  ; 
But,  like  dumb  statues,  or  breathless  stones, 
Star'd  on  each  other,  and  look'd  deadly  pale.     R.  III.  iii.  7 

Can  such  things  be, 

And  overcome  us  like  a  summer's  cloud, 
Without  our  special  wonder  ?    You  make  me  strange. 
Even  to  the  disposition  that  I  owe, 

412 


tljnluflpfnrinii  iutintinrtj. 

W  OXDER,— continued. 

When  now  I  think  you  can  behold  such  sights, 

And  keep  the  natural  ruby  of  your  cheeks, 

While  mine  are  blanch'd  with  fear.  M.  iii.  *. 

For  my  part,  I  am  so  attir'd  in  wonder, 

I  know  not  what  to  say.  M.  A.  iv.  I. 

Why,  'tis  the  rarest  argument  of  wonder,  that  hath  shot 
out  in  our  latter  times.  A.  W.  ii.  1. 

One  that  excels  the  quirks  of  blazoning  pens.  0.  ii.  1 

These  are  not  natural  events ;  they  strengthen, 

From  strange  to  stranger.  T. T.I. 

Bring  in  the  admiration  ;  that  we  with  thee 

May  spend  our  wonder  too,  or  take  off  thine, 

By  wond'ring  how  thou  took'at  it.  A.  W.  ii.  1. 

WXHNG,  WEDDING,  AND  REPENTING. 

Wooing,  wedding,  and  repenting,  are  as  a  Scotch  jig,  a 
measure,  and  a  cinque  pace  :  the  first  suit  is  hot  and  hasty, 
like  a  Scotch  jig,  and  full  as  fantastical ;  the  wedding, 
mannerly  modest,  as  a  measure  full  of  state  and  ancientry  ; 
and  then  comes  repentance,  and,  with  his  bad  legs,  falls 
into  the  cinque-pace  faster  and  faster,  till  he  sink  into  his 
grave.  M.  A.  ii.  1 

WORDS  (See  also  VERBOSITY). 

A  fine  volley  of  words,  gentlemen,  and  quickly  shot  off. 

T.6.  ii.4. 

And  tire  the  hearer  with  a  book  of  words.  M.  A.  i.  1. 

Good  words  are  better  than  bad  strokes.  /.  C.  T.  1 . 

You  have  an  exchequer  of  words,  and,  I  think,  no  other 
treasure  to  give  your  followers  ;  for  it  appears  by  their  bare 
liveries,  that  they  live  by  your  bare  words.  T.  G.  ii.  4. 

Words  are  very  rascals  since  bonds  disgraced  them. 

T.  N.  iii.  1. 

Words  are  grown  BO  false,  I  am  loath  to  prove  reason 
with  them.  T.  N.  iii.  1. 

His  plausive  words 

He  scattered  not  in  ears,  but  grafted  them 
To  grow  there,  and  to  bear.  A.  W.  i.  2, 

I  will  maintain  the  word  with  my  sword,  to  be  a  soldier' 
like  word,  and  a  word  of  exceeding  good  command. 

H.ir.  PT.  n:iii.2. 

413  «• 


WOR       $jjab0parian  iirtinnanj.       woi 

WORDS,—  continued. 

0,  they  have  lived  long  in  the  alms-basket  of  words. 

L.  L.  T.  1 

Let  not  his  smoothing  words 
.Bewitch  your  hearts  ;  be  wif»»,  and  circumspect. 

H.Vl  PT.II.  i.l 

-   -  AND  BLOWS. 

Brutus.  —  Sir,  I  hope, 
My  words  disbeneh'd  yon  n.ot. 

Coriolaniis.  —  No,  Sir  ;  yet  oft, 
When  blows  have  Liadc-  rae  stay,  I  fled  from  words.     (7.  ii.  2 

WORDS,  MERETRICIOUS  -A  VISE  OP. 

They  that  dally  moely  with  words,  may  quickly  mak 
them  wanton.  T.  N.  iii.  1 

WORLD. 

All  the  world's  a  stage, 

And  all  the  men  *»d  women,  merely  players'  : 
They  have  their  «its  and  their  entrances  ; 
And  one  man  in  his  time  plays  many  parts, 
His  acts  being  seven  ages.     At  first,  the  infant  ; 
Mewling  and  puking  in  the  nurse's  arms  : 
Aud  then,  the  whining  school-boy,  with  his  satchel, 
And  shining  morning  face,  creeping,  like  snail, 
Unwillingly  to  school  :  And  then,  the  lover  ; 
Sighing  like  furnace,  with  a  woful  ballad 
Made  to  his  mistress'  eye-brow  :  Then,  a  soldier  , 
Full  of  strange  oaths,  and  bearded  like  the  pard. 
Jealous  in  honour,  sudden  and  quick  in  quarrel, 
Seeking  the  bubble  reputation 
Ev'n  in  the  cannon's  mouth  :  And  then,  the  justice  • 
In  fair  round  belly,  with  good  capon  lin'd, 
With  eyes  severe,  and  beard  of  formal  cut, 
Full  of  wise  saws,  and  modern  instances, 
And  so  he  plays  his  part  :  The  sixth  age  shifts 
Into  the  lean  and  slipper'd  pantaloon  ; 
With  spectacles  on  nose,  and  pouch  on  side  ; 
His  youthful  hose,  well  sav'd,  a  world  too  wide 
For  his  shrunk  shank  ;  and  his  big  manly  voice, 
Turning  again  towards  childish  treble,  pipes 
And  whistles  in  the  sound  :  Last  scene  of  all. 
That  ends  this  strange  eventful  history, 
Is  second  childishness,  and  mere  oblivion  ; 
Sans  teeth,  sans  eyes,  sans  taste,  sans  every  thing. 


Under  the  canopy.  C.  iv.  5 

414 


WOR      &£ftktif*itii8  Birtinttfltij.      wo» 

WORLD,— continued. 

The  varying  shore  o'  the  world.  A.  C.  ir.  13- 

This  wide  and  universal  theatre 
Present!  more  woful  pageants,  than  the  scene 
Wherein  we  play.  A.  K  ii.  7 

0,  world,  thy  slippery  turns  I     Friends  now  fast  sworn, 

Whose  double  bosoms  seem  to  wear  one  heart, 

Whose  hours,  whose  bed,  whose  meal,  and  exercise 

Are  still  together :  who  twin,  as  'twere,  in  love, 

(Inseparable,  shall  within  this  hour, 

On  a  dissention  of  a  doit,  break  out 

To  bitterest  enmity :  So,  fellest  foes, 

Whose  passions  and  whose  plots  have  broke  their  sleep, 

To  take  the  one  the  other,  by  some  chance, 

Some  trick  not  worth  an  egg,  shall  grow  dear  friends, 

And  interjoin  their  issues.  C.  iv.  4 

A  bad  world,  I  say  \  I  would,  I  were  a  weaver;  I  coald 
sing  all  manner  of  songs.  H.  IV.  FT.  i.  ii.  4 

How  you  speak ! 

Did  you  but  know  the  city's  usuries, 
And  felt  them  knowingly :  the  art  o'  the  court, 
As  hard  to  leave,  as  keep ;  whose  top  to  climb 
Is  certain  falling ;  or  so  slippery,  that 
The  fear's  as  bad  as  falling :  the  toil  of  the  war, 
A  pain  that  only  seems  to  seek  out  danger 
I'  the  name  of  fame,  and  honour,  which  dies  i'  the  search ; 
And  hath  as  oft  a  slanderous  epitaph, 
As  record  of  fair  act ;  nay,  many  times, 
Doth  ill  deserve  by  doing  well ;  what's  worse, 
Must  courf  sey  at  the  censure :— 0,  boys,  this  story, 
The  world  may  read  in  me.  Cym.  iii.  o, 

A  man  may  see  how  this  world  goes,  with  no  eyes.  Look 
with  thine  ears :  See  how  yon' justice  rails  upon  yon'  simple 
thief.  Hark,  in  thine  ear :  Change  places ;  and,  handy- 
dandy,  which  is  the  justice,  which  is  the  thief?  K.  L.  iv.  6 

It  is  a  reeling  world,  indeed,  my  lord.  R.  III.  iii.  2. 

I  hold  the  world  but  as  the  world,  Gratiano, 
A  stage,  where  every  man  must  play  a  part, 
And  mine  a  sad  one.  M.  V.  i.  1. 

Fie,  fie,  fie  1  Pah,  pah  !  Give  me  an  ounce  of  civet, 
good  apothecary,  to  sweeten  my  imagination :  there's  money 
for  thee.  K  L.  iv.  o. 

0  ruin'd  piece  of  nature !  This  great  world 
Shall  so  wear  out  to  nought.  R  L.  iv.  8, 

416 


WOR       lijakesjuartan  iictinnnn|.       wci 

WORLD, — continued. 

Come,  let's  away  to  prison : 
We  two  alone  will  sing  like  birds  i'  the  cage  : 
When  thou  dost  ask  my  blessing.  I'll  kneel  down, 
And  ask  of  tliee  forgiveness  :     do  we'll  live, 
And  pray,  and  sing,  and  tell  old  tales,  and  laugh 
At  gilded  butterflies,  and  hear  pocr  rogues 
Talk  of  court  news  ;  and  we'll  talk  with  them  too, — 
Who  loses,  and  who  wins  ;  who's  in,  who's  out ; — 
And  take  upon's  the  mystery  of  things, 
As  if  we  were  God's  spies :  And  we'll  wear  out, 
I  n  a  wall'd  prison,  packs  and  sects  of  great  ones, 
That  ebb  and  flow  by  the  moon.  K.  L.  f.  '. 

Sweet  prince,  the  untainted  virtue  of  your  years 

Hath  not  yet  div'd  into  the  world's  deceit : 

No  more  can  you  distinguish  of  a  man, 

Than  of  his  outward  SAOW,  which,  God  he  knows, 

Seldom,  or  never,  jumpeth  with  the  heart.          R.  III.  iii.  I 

I  am  in  this  earthly  world ;  where,  to  do  harm, 

Is  often  laudable :  to  do  good,  sometimes 

Accounted  dangerous  folly.  M.  iv.  2. 

.     You  have  too  much  respect  upon  the  world  : 

They  lose  it  that  do  buy  it  with  much  care.  M.  V.  i.  1. 

I  am  amaz'd,  methinks ;  and  lose  my  way 

Among  the  thorns  and  dangers  of  this  world.       K,  J.  iv.  3. 

—    's  REPORT. 

Noble  madam, 

Men's  evil  manners  live  in  brass  :  their  virtues 
We  write  in  water.  H.  VIII.  iv.  2. 

The  evil  that  men  do  lives  after  them  ; 
The  good  is  oft  interred  with  their  bones.  J.C.  iii.  2. 

WORMS. 

Your  worm  is  your  only  emperor  for  diet :  we  fat  all 
creatures  else  to  fat  us  ;  and  we  fat  ourselves  for  maggots  : 
your  fat  king,  and  your  lean  beggar,  is  but  variable  ser- 
vice ;  two  dishes,  but  to  one  table ;  that's  the  end. 

II.  iv.  3. 

A  man  may  fish  with  a  worm  that  eat  of  a  king  ,  and 
eat  of  the  fish  that  hath  fed  of  that  worm.  H  iv.  3. 

WORST. 

0  gods !  who  is't  can  say,  I'm  at  the  worst 

1  am  worse  than  e'er  I  was.  K.  L  IT.  1. 

The  worst  ie  not, 
So  long  as  we  can  say, — This  is  the  worst.  K.  L.  ir.  \ 

416 


wou      jjiakHpiarinn  Butiottan{.       YOB 

WOUND. 

The  private  wound  is  deepest.  T.G.  Y.  4. 

WOUNDED  SPIRIT. 

A  discontented  friend,  grief-shot 
With  his  unkindness.  C.  v.  1 

WRONGS. 

If  that  the  heavens  do  not  their  visible  spirits 

Send  quickly  down  to  tame  these  vile  offences, 

'Twill  come, 

Humanity  must  perforce  prey  on  itself, 

Like  monsters  of  the  deep.  £  L.  iv.  2 

0  heavens,  can  you  hear  a  good  man  groan, 

And  not  relent,  or  not  compassion  in  him  ?    Tit.  And.  iv.  1. 

Broke  oath  on  oath,  committed  wrong  on  wrong. 

H.IV.  PT.  i.  ir.  3 


s. 

YEOMEN. 

And  you,  good  yeomen, 

Whose  limbs  were  made  in  England,  show  us  here 
The  mettle  of  your  pasture  ;  let  us  swear 
That  you  are  worth  your  breeding,  which  I  doubt  not ; 
For  there  is  none  of  you  so  mean  and  base, 
That  hath  not  noble  lustre  in  your  eyes.  H.  V.  iii.  1. 

YOUTH. 

A  most  acute  juvenal ;  voluble  and  free  of  grace. 

L.  L.  iii.  1. 

He  capers,  he  dances,  he  has  the  eyes  of  youth,  he  writes 
verses,  he  speaks  holyday,  he  smells  April  and  May :  he 
will  carry't,  he  will  carry't ;  'tis  in  his  buttons ;  he  will 
carry't.  M.  W.  iii.  2. 

A  violet  in  the  youth  of  primy  nature.  H.  i.  3. 

She  is  young,  and  apt ; 
Our  own  precedent  passions  do  instruct  us 
What  levity's  in  youth.  T.  A.  i.  1. 

Young  blood  doth  not  obey  an  old  decree.  L.  L.  iv.  3 

For  ia  her  youth 

There  is  a  prone  and  speechless  dialect, 
Such  as  moves  men ;  besides,  she  hath  prosperous  art 
When  she  will  play  with  reason  and  discourse, 
And  well  she  can  persuade.  4f.  M,  i»  3, 


TOIT       Ijjabspearian  ihtinuartj.       ZEI 

YOUTH,— continued. 

Briefly  die  their  joys, 
That  place  them  on  the  truth  of  girls  and  boys.     Cym,  v.  S 

We  were,  fair  queen, 

Two  lads  that  thought  there  was  no  more  behind, 
But  such  a  day  to-morrow  as  to-day, 
And  to  be  boy  eternal.  W.T.  i.  2 

A  proper  stripling,  and  an  amorous  t  T.  8,  i.  2. 

YOUTH,  MELANCHOLY. 

He  hears  merry  tales,  and  smiles  not:  I  fear  he  will 
prove  the  weeping  philosopher  when  he  grows  old,  being 
BO  full  of  unmannerly  sadness  in  his  youth.  M.  V.  i.  2. 

—————  UNRESTRAINED. 

When  his  headstrong  riot  hath  no  curb, 
When  rage  and  hot  blood  are  his  counsellors, 
When  means  and  lavish  manners  meet  together ;        . 
0,  with  what  wings  shall  his  affections  fly 
Towards  fronting  peril  and  oppos'd  decay. 

H.  IV.  PT.  ii.  IT.  4. 


2. 

Z4NIES. 

I  protest,  I  take  these  wise  men,  that  crow  so  at  these 
net  kind  of  fools,  no  better  than  the  fools'  zanies. 

T.N.  i.  5- 

ZEAL  DISREGARDED. 

To  whose  ingrate  and  unauspicions  altars, 

My  soul  the  faithfull'st  offerings  hath  breath'd  oat, 

That  e'er  devotion  tendered.  T.  N.  r.  1. 

ZED. 

unnecessary  letter  I  JT.  L.&,  i 


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